CALIBAN

The following was published today in the Puerto Rico Daily Sun [Year 1, No. 198: p. 13]

It is way past the time we in the Caribbean and Central America should have abandoned once and for all the export based economic model that was more or less thrust upon us by our principle trading partner to the North. Unfortunately, much of Central America and a dwindling number of insular Caribbean states continue their fruitless pursuit of assembly industries for export to the US market. The assembly process is known in the US as 'production sharing' and the topic has been, until recently, a fixture of sorts among researchers at the US International Trade Commission (USITC). They regularly published lengthy reports ostensibly for members of the US Congress intent on maintaining as much employment as possible from their quondam industrial base within the borders of the United States. I am familiar with these publications because I used them frequently in my own research.

Hence, I am very familiar with the volatile nature of production sharing in the Caribbean Basin from its inception in the late sixties and early seventies to its virtual institutionalization in the eighties via the Caribbean Basin Initiative (CBI) and its many incarnations or reincarnations thereafter up to and into the new millennium. Once the import substitution model of yore was abandoned and countries slowly began to buy into the new outward oriented export paradigm, opportunities arose for entry into the largest and most lucrative market in the hemisphere (that of the U. S.). I won't go into the geopolitical forces behind this new “paradigm” other that to draw people's attention to the fact that the CBI was enacted “for” our region under the Reagan Administration shortly after the US invasion of Grenada, a period in history which also saw the rise of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua and several other insurgencies throughout Central America.

Preferential access schemes such as Section 807 of the US Tariff Schedule (subsequently replaced by Section 9802.00.80 of the new Harmonized Tariff System) linked with the Caribbean Basin Economic Recovery Act, as the CBI was more formally called, stimulated the garment assembly industry, which has historically been the largest sector by far in export processing zones throughout our region. A recent World Bank study [PDF] notes the region has witnessed 30 years of unilateral preferential access to the United States for certain products under the CBI and subsequently through the Caribbean Basin Trade Partnership Act (CBTPA), enacted in 2000. It correctly asserts that these preferential agreements have shaped the Caribbean external trade structure.

For example the garment/textile sector I refer to above grew from less that 1% of Nicaragua's exports to the United States in 1990 to close to 63% by the year 2003, according to data from the Economic Commission for Latin America [CEPAL-Mexico, May, 2006: pp. 29 - 30; PDF]. Although not as dramatic, a similar trend occurred throughout much of the rest of the region with garment/textile exports from Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and the Dominican Republic going from 26%, 29%, 24% and 39% respectively of exports to the US in 1990 to 60%, 87%, 78% and 49% in 2003. It should be noted that the Caribbean Basin carries out the vast majority of its external trade precisely with the United States. By all measures, this data should be viewed as a success story from the point of view of proponents of the export paradigm. As a matter of fact, the recently enacted Central American, Dominican Republic Free Trade Area, CAFTA-DR was crafted to a large degree to solidify those gains and provide for further growth into the future.

The problem is that the crafters of this policy ignored a glaring but simple truth that a beginning student of international economics is capable of explaining to anyone with an ability to listen. The truth revolves around a concept known as “trade diversion”. Anyone even remotely familiar with the ins and outs of worldwide garment commerce would have been aware that there was a gradual process of trade liberalization going on that straddled the turn of the century and that would profoundly impact importers like the United Sates. Added to that was the fact that the garment/textile powerhouse of China would be joining the free trade club, so to speak, and would consequently overwhelm any other exporter within the US and other markets, if free trade were to prevail.

What is disheartening, not to say thoroughly outrageous, is that US authorities were well aware of it, judging by the voluminous output on the topic produced prior to the fact by researchers at the USITC, not to mention half a dozen or so other non-government think tanks. Yet, US authorities perpetuated the preferential access schemes that “shotgun married” the Caribbean Basin's garment assemblers to their own moribund textile mills via the CBTPA. William C. Gruben of the Dallas Federal Reserve Bank was succinct when he described several years ago the outcome of the identical phenomenon in the case of Mexican textile/garment exports to the US:

“By their very nature, regional accords lower tariffs and regulatory burdens for members, giving them an edge over nonmembers. Trade diversion occurs when these preferential trade agreements encourage higher-cost imports of member countries to replace the lower-cost imports of nonmembers. Where trade diversion exists, economic theory suggests that all good things must end—at least for those that have benefited from the trade preferences. ... When the importing countries extend preferential trade benefits to more nations, the boom from the original diversion may be followed by a bust as new trading patterns emerge and the world’s low-cost producer regains its advantage. This may not always occur, but it’s exactly what happened with Mexico’s textiles and apparel. With the erosion of Mexico’s NAFTA edge, China increased U.S. sales. Mexico lost market share—and as a result, employment fell in the textile and apparel maquiladoras.”

And this is the exact same thing that occurred with the Caribbean Basin's US based export model! We bought into the orthodoxy, acquiescing ever so eagerly to the US marketing ploy like a herd of oblivious lemmings plunging trans-like over the perennial cliff. As if to rub salt into the wounds, the World Bank now tells us, as we founder in the throes of the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression, that although preferential trading schemes were established as a development tool to stimulate and diversify our exports, the prevailing consensus is that“…trade preferences have not delivered expected results...they have not helped overall trade performance”.

We have now come full circle. Can anyone honestly blame the region if some member countries are seeking out alternatives to US policy prescriptions, no matter how wrongheaded or erroneous they might be perceived as being from the US side? Who is going to want to follow a US economic strategy for the region if we have obediently been following them for the last thirty odd years only to end in the situation so aptly described by the latest World Bank report? President Obama rose to the US presidency on a promise for change. He was also given a rousing reception at the recent Summit of the Americas from a region reeling from economic decline. Is this really a new beginning or will we be left to eat merely words?

I am deeply saddened to learn of the passing of musician Fred Thomas, who I got to know when I had the privilege of teaching at the University of the Virgin Islands' St. Croix campus for two years. He was a wonderful bassist and could play the piano professionally as well. He was known to my uncles Marvin and Neal, and joins them in that pantheon of jazz musicians in the sky. Of particular fascination to me was the fact that Freddie had played bass with the original band of Puerto Rican icon Rafael Cortijo. Before I left St. Croix to return to Puerto Rico, he gave me these copies of photographs of Cortijo y su Combo. In this first one, you can see Uncle Freddie at the far left with his characteristic lit cigarette in his right hand.




In the next photo (below) you can see Freddie in the front row with the legendary Sonero Ismael Rivera's right hand on his right shoulder and Maestro Cortijo's right hand on Freddie's left shoulder.



Finally you have the band with a number of other musicians and singers. I would be grateful to anybody out there that could help me identify them individually.



The last picture is of a Jazz quintet which belonged to renown drummer Monchito Muñoz. Legendary trumpeter Juancito Torres was on trumpet and of course Uncle Freddie played the bass. I wish I could have heard them play if even on a recording. Juancito could really hit those high notes, almost like Dizzy Gillespie.



When in St. Croix, I always went to see Freddie play at the Blue Moon in Fredriksted. He was ailing then and despite suffering from emphysema, he continued to smoke. Maybe I was imagining things, but he always seemed to perk up when I arrived and would then proceed to play his heart out. I gave him my electric keyboard when I left, cognisant of the fact that he didn't have much more time to live. Rest In Peace Uncle Freddie. I know you're up there playing a mambo for St. Peter.

While initially reluctant to make any mention of this, I feel I must if for no other reason than to exercise catharsis: The earth and all its inhabitants will breathe a sigh of relief at the departure today of what some consider [I include myself among these opinion holders] one of the worst presidencies in US history. Although not a card-carrying member of the US Democratic Party, I find myself in total agreement with the words of George McGovern, published in the Washington Post just over a year ago:

Bush and Cheney are clearly guilty of numerous impeachable offenses. They have repeatedly violated the Constitution. They have transgressed national and international law. They have lied to the American people time after time. Their conduct and their barbaric policies have reduced our beloved country to a historic low in the eyes of people around the world. These are truly "high crimes and misdemeanors," to use the constitutional standard.

From the beginning, the Bush-Cheney team's assumption of power was the product of questionable elections that probably should have been officially challenged -- perhaps even by a congressional investigation. In a more fundamental sense, American democracy has been derailed throughout the Bush-Cheney regime. The dominant commitment of the administration has been a murderous, illegal, nonsensical war against Iraq. That irresponsible venture has killed almost 4,000 Americans, left many times that number mentally or physically crippled, claimed the lives of an estimated 600,000 Iraqis (according to a careful October 2006 study from the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health) and laid waste their country. The financial cost to the United States is now $250 million a day and is expected to exceed a total of $1 trillion, most of which we have borrowed from the Chinese and others as our national debt has now climbed above $9 trillion -- by far the highest in our national history.

If I were to decide on a metaphor for the Bush presidency, I would probably choose “wrecking ball” or “bull in a china shop”. Undoubtedly, some of the former allies of said presidency would agree with me on that. ...And as for the fiction of Bush being the “decider”, well this ought to put that one to rest! Good riddance, GWB, and be sure to take your few remaining followers with you on your way out!

The one main chilling lesson that I take away from this horrible administration of the last eight years is the utter fragility of the US governing system. Please make no mistake: The fact that the US was able to sweep aside this mess and in its best democratic tradition elect someone that apparently represents a significant departure from the previous administration is a testament to the strength and resilience of the US democracy and I applaud that. However, that doesn't negate the fact that the system can at times become quite fragile and under certain extraordinary circumstances come very close to self destruction. This is not a good sign. I hope that future generations will recognize what the country has just been through at the beginning of this new century and therefore be vigilant; working hard to preserve the best of what the United States has to offer the rest of the world.

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Postscript: I just couldn't let this go by without including a tribute to the incoming and first Black President of the United States.

Fruits and vegetables! They are what our doctors recommend we include in our daily diets to ensure our health. As baby boomers age, more and more people are adding these wonderful gifts of nature to their diet. And with today being a reminder of that phenomenon in my own life, given that it is my birthday, I thought I would reproduce a [mildly edited] diary I had written about a year ago on the subject for the Daily Kos:

Fruits are abundant in nutrients, such as fiber, potassium, folate, and Vitamin C. Moreover, they also contain carotenoids and polyphenols, which act as antioxidants within the body. Eating large amounts of plant-based foods has been associated with lowered rates of cardiovascular disease (1, 2) and with decreased risk of cancer and stroke (2). Consuming adequate fruits and vegetables provides both essential nutrients and compounds that provide other beneficial physiological effects, not all of which are known.

One of my greatest pleasures has become to plant, cultivate and consume my own fruits and vegetables. Everyone here in the tropics, where abundant rains ensure lush vegetation, has their own backyard fruit and vegetable garden. Even those (very rare souls) that don't, need only walk down a nearby street or park to harvest any of a number of fruits that grow on trees that have sprouted from discarded seeds throughout the years.

Here I will be sharing with you just a handful of fruits, spices and veggies which I have cultivated in my 'back yard' over the years. In the photo, you can see a sampling of a recent harvest.
The large fruit in the upper left hand corner are grapefruit. Those are the last of my crop for this season. While mine have abundant seeds, they are unusually sweet. I have two trees and these were from the tree on the northern side of my house (the other is on the southern side). Next on the plate are five lemons from two trees I have right outside my kitchen. There is probably no fruit as essential to cooking as the lemon (I actually think they are limes but here in Puerto Rico we rarely call limes by their name). I use them for just about everything from cleaning meats to using as ingredients in marinades and dishes. Furthermore, I doubt you can imagine yourself eating fried fish without a lemon wedge nearby!

In front of the lemons, off to the right, are small sweet Spanish peppers (ajices dulces) which I guess would be classified as condiments or spices as opposed to vegetables or even fruit (although the ones in the photo I took are green, they can come in a variety of colors from bright red to a dark purple). They are not to be eaten raw but are very common in Latin American cooking from Puerto Rico to Venezuela. They are an essential ingredient in a traditional condiment that we prepare almost daily here in Puerto Rico: the ubiquitous Sofrito! It is a very versatile condiment which can be used to season meats, and as ingredients in rice and bean dishes, soups and seafoods. Use it to spice up any meal. Try seasoning your meatballs with it the next time you make spaghetti and meatballs! The following recipe makes about 4 cups:

SOFRITO
2 medium Spanish onions, coarsely chopped
3 or 4 cubanelle peppers
15 - 20 garlic cloves
1 large bunch cilantro
7 - 10 Spanish sweet peppers
a couple of leaves of culantro (a much stronger version of cilantro)
3 to 4 ripe plum tomatoes, cut into chunks
1 large red bell pepper, seeded and coarsely chopped

Chop the onion and cubanelle peppers and place in a food processor. Process until coarsely chopped. Add the remaining ingredients one at a time and process until smooth. Your sofrito will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, but it freezes well for longer keeping.

As a footnote, my late musician uncle, Neal Creque, composed a very popular tune entitled "Sofrito" (click to hear it!), which became the title piece of an album released by Cuban conga legend Mongo Santamaria.

Finally, on the far right of the plate you see a fruit which seen whole from afar would look just like a lemon. Once you cut it open, revealing its redish pink interior and numerous seeds (as pictured), you would be pleasantly surprised to discover it is actually a guava (guayaba in Spanish)! We had quite a guava orchard way back when my parents bought the property in the early sixties. Today, only two trees survive but I am replenishing the supply with young offshoots. My grandmother used to love to make a delicious guava stew when she was visiting in Puerto Rico to help my mother take care of me. Below is a photo of the ripe fruit on one of my trees. Half a cup of guava fruit has 4.5 grams of fiber, 188 mg of vitamin C, 344 mg of potassium, 26 retinol activity equivalents of vitamin A, 15 mg of calcium, and 40 mcg of folate. It is very easy to make a fabulous treat of guava preserves:

GUAVA PRESERVES
1 pound of guava
1 pound of sugar
1 cup of water
Pare guavas. Cut in halves; remove seeds. Boil sugar and water for 10 minutes. Add guava shells. Cook at low temperature until syrup is thick, not stiff.

Next, I want to draw your attention to one of my favorite tropical fruits: the papaya. If any plant deserves the term "wonder plant" it is the papaya plant (it is technically not a tree). This tropical gem not only tastes heavenly on its own, but can be used in cooking and has medical and industrial applications as well. The plant in the photo is growing right up against the house and has over a dozen fruit on it (there is a better photo of the entire tree further on down in the diary). The bottom most fruit in the photo are ripe and (believe me) they tasted so good, I ate the entire fruit in one sitting! Interestingly, I didn't plant the papaya; it just grew there (possibly a kind bird or bat dropped the seed there and it took root and grew). Currently I have about six papaya plants growing around the house which I didn't plant either!
I could dedicate an entire diary to this wonder-fruit, so I'll just highlight a few of its uses and give you a recipe for a papaya salsa. From the Purdue University's Center for New Crops and Plants Products:

Papaya is cultivated for its ripe fruits, favored by tropical people, as breakfast fruit, and as an ingredient in jellies, preserves, or cooked in various ways; juice makes a popular beverage; young leaves, shoots, and fruits cooked as a vegetable. Latex used to remove freckles. Bark used for making rope. Leaves used as a soap substitute, are supposed to remove stains. Flowers eaten in Java. Papain, the proteolytic enzyme, has a wealth of industrial uses. It has milk-clotting (rennet) and protein digesting properties. Active over a wide pH range, papain is useful in medicine, combatting dyspepsia and other digestive orders. In liquid preparations it has been used for reducing enlarged tonsils. Nearly 80% of American beer is treated with papain, which digests the precipitable protein fragments and then the beer remains clear on cooling. Papain is also used for degumming natural silk. But most of the papain imported in the U.S. is used for meat-tenderizers and chewing gums. Also used to extract the oil from tuna liver.

I really urge you to go to the Purdue site and read the entire piece on Papaya when you have a chance. For now, I want to pass on this (untested but delicious sounding) recipe which I pulled off the internet (I can't recall the site):

PAPAYA SALSA
1 mango peeled, seeded and chopped
1 papaya peeled, seeded and chopped
1 avocado peeled, pitted and chopped
½ sweet onion, peeled and chopped
2 Tbs Fresh Cilantro, chopped
1 Tbs Light Olive Oil
2 Tbs Balsamic Vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste
Cayenne pepper to taste
Brown Rice Syrup to sweeten if needed
Combine all the ingredients and chill for 30 minutes. Serve with tortilla chips.

Moving right along... What backyard, no matter how modest, anywhere in the Caribbean would be complete without one or more banana plants? They are everywhere and while I do have various plants at my place, the photo below is actually of one of my plantain plants. The fruit are not ripe yet as the plantains have to fill out quite a bit more (doesn't the fruit bunch seem to resemble a strange creature from outer space with red lips?)
While similar in size and shape to the banana, the plantain fruit (not the herb!) cannot (or should not) be consumed without being cooked. Half a cup of plantain has 1.7 gm of fiber, 41 retinol activity equivalents of vitamin A, 14 mg of vitamin C, 369 mg of potassium and 16 mcg of folate. There are tons of recipes you can prepare with plantains, so I will just leave a link to (mostly) Puerto Rican recipes you can explore on your own.

Not too far from the papaya plant are two bushes of sweet basil. There are many types of basil. I have two varieties growing and while I can't name them, the one on the right is the most common and more aromatic of the two.

I am still learning the ins and outs of growing basil. I have been advised to not let the plants flower. By cutting off the flowers, it motivates them to produce more leaves. I'll remember that for next time!

Now, below is a more panoramic view of my papaya plant (sans the two ripe fruit pictured previously). I'm including this photo because in the foreground (to the left of the papaya plant) is a young avocado tree. It has yet to produce fruit but is coming along nicely. This scene is just outside my library (hence the airconditioner to keep the books from getting too humid). Once I get a harvest of mangos and avocados, I will be able to make that intriguing papaya salsa recipe (above).

Even further to the left of the avocado tree (you can barely see some of the branches, since the tree itself is out of sight) is another wonderful tropical tree which produces another of my favorite fruits: the soursop, (Guanabana in Spanish)! Although called 'sour'sop, it is actually quite sweet and juicy. Below is a close-up photo of one of the fruits of that tree.

When ripe, the fruit has a fluffy white pulp which is excellent for making juice, sherbet or other treats. A half cup of soursop has 3.7 g of fiber, 23 mg of vitamin C, 16 mg of calcium, 313 mg of potassium, and 16 mcg of folate. Of particular medicinal use are the young leaves which are very effective in curing an upset stomach. The Purdue University Center for New Crops and Plants Products confirms what we in the Caribbean already knew:

...we are told to break soursop leaves in water, "squeeze a couple of limes therein, get a drunken man and rub his head well with the leaves and water and give him a little of the water to drink and he gets as sober as a judge in no time." This sobering or tranquilizing formula may not have been widely tested, but soursop leaves are regarded throughout the West Indies as having sedative or soporific properties. In the Netherlands Antilles, the leaves are put into one's pillowslip or strewn on the bed to promote a good night's sleep. An infusion of the leaves is commonly taken internally for the same purpose. It is taken as an analgesic and antispasmodic in Esmeraldas Province, Ecuador. In Africa, it is given to children with fever and they are also bathed lightly with it. A decoction of the young shoots or leaves is regarded in the West Indies as a remedy for gall bladder trouble, as well as coughs, catarrh, diarrhea, dysentery and indigestion; is said to "cool the blood," and to be able to stop vomiting and aid delivery in childbirth. The decoction is also employed in wet compresses on inflammations and swollen feet. The chewed leaves, mixed with saliva, are applied to incisions after surgery, causing proudflesh to disappear without leaving a scar. Mashed leaves are used as a poultice to alleviate eczema and other skin afflictions and rheumatism, and the sap of young leaves is put on skin eruptions.

The real treat, however, is a tall ice cold glass of soursop juice. Nothing beats it on a hot muggy day:

SOURSOP JUICE

1 soursop
1 quart of boiling water
Sugar to tastee
Remove the skin and core of one soursop. Over the pulp of the soursop pour boiling water. Let stand in covered container for half an hour. Strain and sweeten to taste.

Just down an embankment from the soursop tree is one of several tannia or taro plants I have scattered around my property. Although sometimes called 'elephant ears' (see photo below), we call them yautia in Puerto Rico and tannia or dasheen in the Virgin Islands.

Although the leaves are rich in nutrients and are used, we tend to go for the tubers or corms that accumulate around the roots, eating them like potatos. Since they are not visible in the photo above, you can see what the tubers look like here. As Wikipedia tells us:

Typical of leaf vegetables, taro leaves are rich in vitamins and minerals. They are a good source of thiamin, riboflavin, iron, phosphorus, and zinc, and a very good source of vitamin B6, vitamin C, niacin, potassium, copper, and manganese. Taro corms are very high in starch, and are a good source of dietary fiber.

However, a warning for those of us that suffer from kidney stones:

Oxalic acid may be present in the corm and especially in the leaf, and these foods should be eaten with milk or other foods rich in calcium so as to remove the risks posed by ingesting the oxalate ion, especially for people with kidney disorders, gout, or rheumatoid arthritis. Calcium reacts with the oxalate to form calcium oxalate which is very insoluble.

For those of us that can stomach them, here is a wonderful recipe from the Virgin Islands:

TANNIA SOUP

1/2 lb. salt fat meat, ham bones or ham
salt and pepper to taste
1 small onion
1 sprig of thyme
1 sprig of parsley
1 Tbsp. of margarine
5 large tannias
1/2 cup tomatos
Boil meat or hambones in two quarts of water; season with salt & pepper. Brown onion and seasonings in margarine; add to the water. Simmer for two hours. Add diced tannias and tomatos; cook gently until tannias are soft. Mash tannias and tomatos against the side of cooking pan. Serve garnished with chopped parsley.

The final item on my "list" is both a fruit and a condiment that I cherish, given my affinity for indian dishes. Almost two years ago I posted a comment on the Daily Kos about my tamarind tree. This year's (early 2008) tamarind crop is more plentiful than last year's and I have provided you a glimpse (below) at a small part of it.

The tree itself is impressive and beautiful (unfortunately, I couldn't get a good photo of the entire tree to post for you here), as Purdue University's Center for New Crops and Plants Products tells us:

The tamarind, a slow-growing, long-lived, massive tree reaches, under favorable conditions, a height of 80 or even 100 ft (24-30 m), and may attain a spread of 40 ft (12 m) and a trunk circumference of 25 ft (7.5 m). It is highly wind-resistant, with strong, supple branches, gracefully drooping at the ends, and has dark-gray, rough, fissured bark.

Aside from its use in dishes like Sambhar (which is what I'm having for dinner tonight), tamarind is made into a thirst-quenching tropical drink. As the CNCPP article goes on to note:

Tamarind ade has long been a popular drink in the Tropics and it is now bottled in carbonated form in Guatemala, Mexico, Puerto Rico and elsewhere. Formulas for the commercial production of spiced tamarind beverages have been developed by technologists in India. The simplest home method of preparing the ade is to shell the fruits, place 3 or 4 in a bottle of water, let stand for a short time, add a tablespoonful of sugar and shake vigorously. For a richer beverage, a quantity of shelled tamarinds may be covered with a hot sugar sirup and allowed to stand several days (with or without the addition of seasonings such as cloves, cinnamon, allspice, ginger, pepper or lime slices) and finally diluted as desired with ice water and strained.

One slight correction to the above. We don't (to my knowledge) bottle it in carbonated form.

Labels: Caribbean, crops, Food, fruits, tropics, vegetables

A year ago I began what I hoped would have been an historical series on twentieth century relations between Cuba and the United States, following the Spanish American War. After two installments, I was unable to keep up with it. Although I haven't abandoned the idea altogether, the historic decision of Fidel Castro not to run for re-election as President of the State Council has motivated me to re-post what I had written back then.

PART I

The 24th of February will mark 51 years since the New York Times correspondent and editor Herbert L. Matthews (no relation to me) published his first in a series of articles on Fidel Castro, marking the 26 of July Movement's first steps out of the Sierra Maestra mountains and toward its eventual ascendency to power in Cuba. Criticized as partial to Fidel Castro, Matthews nevertheless spoke words that would prove prophetic and resonate throughout Latin America:

One might say Fidel Castro was like Pandora. The box was there and all the troubles were in it – and he opened the box. Latin America is moving fast, and not necessarily with us or toward us. The social and economic pressures have revolutionary possibilities. Our policies to date have not been successful. They have been too negative, too little, too closely tied to dictators and to small ruling classes who will become victims of the new social pressures if they do not move quickly and make necessary reforms. Stability and the status quo are dreams of the past. We have lost the Cuba we knew and dominated, or influenced so greatly. Our relations with Cuba will never be the same , even when they become friendly again, as they must. (Herbert L. Matthews, The Cuban Story, New York: Braziller, 1961, p. 273)

The United States is going to continue to have a difficult time dealing with Fidel Castro’s legacy, even after his passing. It is no secret that the US had actively sought to depose and even eliminate the Cuban leader in order to replace the island’s communist government with one favorable to US interests. Instead of passing judgement on Castro’s years in power as supreme leader of Cuba, I would instead like to go back in history to examine to some degree why someone like Castro came to power in the first place. I do it in the hopes of contributing to the examination of the roots of animosity and outright rebelliousness of not a few Latin American administrations towards the US government and its policies (notice that I am - purposely - not using the phrase “roots of anti-Americanism”). As author Thomas G. Paterson writes in the first chapter of his 1994 book Contesting Castro: The United States and the Triumph of the Cuban Revolution, in the mid nineteen fifties:

Castro had no ties with Cuba's Communist Party – at least not at this time. His dissident organization actually distrusted the Communists because of their onetime sordid alliance with Fulgencio Batista, the very dictator the rebels intended to topple. Castro's most conspicuous model in the mid-1950's was the hero of the 1890's Cuban Revolution José Martí, not Karl Marx, V.I. Lenin, Mao Zedong or Josef Stalin. (pages 15-16).

So what happened? Historians have long debated whether Castro, once in power, was pushed by the Eisenhower administration into the arms of the communists, or if he had come to power with the intent of converting the island to communism all along. That debate is not as interesting as why there may have existed in Cuba (and, for that matter, elsewhere in Latin America) a widespread distrust of and even antagonism towards the United States government in the first place. In fact, I believe the debate about Fidel’s intentions was largely settled by Allen Luxenberg in his 1988 article “Did Eisenhower Push Castro into the Arms of the Soviets”, (Journal of Inter-American Studies and World Affairs, Vol. 30, No. 1 pages 37-72.)

(The photo of l to r Cuautémoc & Lázaro Cárdenas, Fidel Castro & his son was taken by my father, Dr. Thomas G. Mathews)

It is evident that when Castro came to power, his seemingly abrupt repudiation of the United States came as a shock to many ordinary Americans. As Louis A. Perez Jr. expressed in “Fear and Loathing of Fidel Castro: Sources of US Policy toward Cuba”,

North Americans viewed early developments in Cuba with a mixture of incomprehension and incredulity. Much had to do with the pace of events: everything moved so quickly, as events with portentous implications seemed to accelerate from one day to the next in vertiginous succession. There was no frame of reference with which to take measure of developments in Cuba: no precedent, no counterpart, but most of all there was no understanding of the larger historical circumstances from which the Cuban revolution had emerged. (Journal of Latin American Studies, Vol. 34, Part 2, May 2002, page 229)

It is precisely these historical circumstances that must be reviewed to understand why someone like Castro could emerge as a leader of a Latin American country. Cuba’s hostility toward the United States can be attributed in part to U.S. policies toward the island since 1898. That was the year of what North Americans have dubbed the Spanish American War.

(note: I am at great pains to recommend a single book as the definitive account of the “Spanish American War”, since there are many writings on the subject as well as diverse interpretations of the events; nevertheless, I am advised that David Trasks’ book is among the best one might find in a single volume).

Herein lays one of the main roots of the historic US-Cuban discord. Cubans have resented the US depiction of the war as primarily a battle between Spain and the United States. As Lars Schoultz expounds in his commentary Blessings of Liberty: The United States and the Promotion of Democracy in Cuba:

The Cuban contribution had been considerable: after three years of warfare the rebels had pinned down nearly all of the 200,000 Spanish troops on the island, and that alone explains why Cubans have always been upset by the term US citizens use for the conflict – the Spanish American War – which overlooks their role in the proceedings. (Journal of Latin American Studies, Vol. 34, Part 2, May 2002, page 399)

One of the great heroes of what Cubans prefer to call the Spanish-Cuban-American War was General Antonio Maceo Grajales, a black man who was popularly known as the Titan of Bronze. Described as one of the outstanding guerrilla leaders in nineteenth century Latin America, Maceo’s

...most famous campaign in the War of Cuban liberation was his invasion of western Cuba when his troops, mostly Afro-Cubans on horseback, covered more than 1,000 miles in 92 days and fought the enemy in 27 separate encounters.

Noted historian Ada Ferrer points out that the presence of blacks among Cuban revolutionaries brought anti-racism to the fore in the struggle for independence. (See also the historical references to the Mambises) The experiences of these black insurgents became fundamental to the unfolding of the new republic and held out the promise of the eventual establishment of a color-blind nation. While Spain was defeated in the war, what took place in its aftermath clearly dismayed the brave Cuban fighters. As Lars Schoultz explains,

No Cuban helped to negotiate the armistice signed by Spain and the United States in Washington in August; it required the Spanish to relinquish sovereignty over Cuba pending negotiation of a treaty of peace, which was signed in Paris in December, again without Cuban participation. It declared that Cuba ‘is, upon evacuation by Spain, to be occupied by the United States’. (page 399)

And this in the face of a US Congressional War Resolution known as the Teller Amendment that explicitly stated that the US would not annex Cuba. It is important to note that while the United States supposedly joined the war to assist the Cubans in liberating their country from the yoke of the Spanish, the tables were now turned and Cuba had actually become a war booty with the US presence emanating from the “right of conquest” instead of any invitation or formal understanding with Cuban leaders. General John R. Brooke, to who the Spanish formally turned over the Cuban capital in 1899 (and who became the first US military commander of the island) exemplified the condescending and paternalistic approach which would characterize the US occupation of the island. According to Lester D. Langley:

Having condemned Spain for its backward colonialism, Brooke... accepted the Spanish characterization of Cubans as people incapable of self-rule who required enlightened guidance. (...) In assuming power, Brooke retained much of the Spanish administrative structure, modifying it to meet the current requirements; he even kept a number of Spanish bureaucrats. (The United States and the Caribbean in the Twentieth Century, Fourth Ed., U. of Georgia Press, 1989: pages 18-19)

Meanwhile, in the eastern part of the island, the eventual successor to Brooke was already stamping his imprimatur on the American occupation by implementing a

regimen which included, among other punishments, public whippings for those who violated his civic code. (Langley, page 19)

This individual was General Leonard Wood, who would become a particularly notorious irritant to the Cubans. Leonard Wood (who would later go on to notoriety as the butcher of Muslims in the Phillipines) was one of a group of likeminded government functionaries, that included such “luminaries” as US President McKinley’s Secretaries of War, Elihu Root, and State, John Hay, that disliked the Teller Amendment and clearly favored annexing Cuba to the United States. Lars Schoultz documents the racist nature of the US occupation under Leonard Wood:

But the Cubans could not be convinced so quickly to become part of the United States, and so Governor-General Wood tried to extend the transition period. ‘We are going ahead as fast as we can,’ he wrote the president in 1900, ‘but we are dealing with a race that has steadily been going down for a hundred years into which we have got to infuse new life, new principles and new methods of doing things. This is not the work of a day or of a year, but of a longer period.’ (...) ...the president ordered Wood to accelerate the transition. The first task was to disenfranchise that part of the Cuban population which had gone furthest downhill. By decree Wood restricted suffrage to Cuban born males over the age of twenty who could meet one of three requirements: the ability to read and write, the possession of property valued at $250 or more, or military service in the insurgent forces. This eliminated two thirds of Cuba’s males over the age of twenty, and ...Elihu Root congratulated his general when he learned that ‘whites so greatly outnumbered blacks’ in the truncated electorate. (pages 400 – 401)

PART II (originally posted on March 11, 2007)

Following some brief notes about the current Cuban transition to a new leadership, we go back in time to examine the infamous Platt Amendment, which compounded the already deteriorating relations between the island and its North American occupier following the war.

(The above photo is of the Havana waterfront taken during my 1979 visit)

Speculation abounds in the press of the United States regarding the possible fate(s) of Cuba following Fidel Castro’s decision to step down due to illness. Although he appears to be making a slow but steady recovery, it is evident he will no longer be able to hold the island’s foremost leadership position. What seems to have escaped the US media in its unbound enthusiasm for a radical change in the political direction of the country is the fact, apparent to anyone who cares to analyze the situation seriously, that an orderly transition to a new leadership under the aegis of the Communist Party has already taken place.

People in the know like Nelson and David Rockefeller Senior Fellow and Director of Latin American Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations, Julia E. Sweig (who not only has publications about Cuba but has traveled to the island some 30 times over the past 23 years, meeting with a wide spectrum of people from Fidel Castro to his regime’s political prisoners) are aware that despite not being a US style Jeffersonian democracy, Cuba:

 

... is a functioning country with highly opinionated citizens where locally elected officials (albeit all from one party) worry about issues such as garbage collection, public transportation, employment, education, health care, and safety. Although plagued by worsening corruption, Cuban institutions are staffed by an educated civil service, battle-tested military officers, a capable diplomatic corps, and a skilled work force. Cuban citizens are highly literate, cosmopolitan, endlessly entrepreneurial, and by global standards quite healthy.

This panorama is seldom acknowledged by the Cuban government’s (exiled) detractors, which at times seem to have an all-too-privileged access to the halls of power in the United States. People without such blinders would readily acknowledge what Sweig has concluded: that the Cuban government has garnered sufficient legitimacy over the years to undertake a smooth leadership transition:

People at all levels of the Cuban government and the Communist Party were enormously confident of the regime's ability to survive Fidel's passing. In and out of government circles, critics and supporters alike -- including in the state-run press -- readily acknowledge major problems with productivity and the delivery of goods and services. But the regime's still-viable entitlement programs and a widespread sense that Raúl is the right man to confront corruption and bring accountable governance give the current leadership more legitimacy than it could possibly derive from repression alone (the usual explanation foreigners give for the regime's staying power).

This should get some people thinking. The Cuban leadership has maintained itself defiant towards the US throughout its nearly 50 year history. If it is still in power and enjoys such a level of legitimacy as to be able to guarantee continuity of the Revolution via a smooth transition to a new leadership, maybe there is something to all the anti US government rhetoric (please notice, again, that I am using the phrase anti US government , instead of anti US). As Sweig again acknowledges:

In Cuba's national narrative, outside powers -- whether Spain in the nineteenth century or the United States in the twentieth -- have preyed on Cuba's internal division to dominate Cuban politics. Revolutionary ideology emphasizes this history of thwarted independence and imperialist meddling, from the Spanish-American War to the Bay of Pigs, to sustain a national consensus. Unity at home, the message goes, is the best defense against the only external power Cuba still regards as a threat -- the United States.

THE PLATT AMENDMENT
On November 5, 1900, Governor-General Leonard Wood (who, as noted in PART I, would rise to further notoriety in the Philippines) called for a constitutional convention in Cuba’s capital. However, just four months later the Cuban constitutional convention was given a set of articles which had originated as a US legislative amendment to the Army Appropriation Act of 1901, sponsored by Senator Orville Platt of Connecticut. What became known as the Platt Amendment reflected US President McKinley’s Secretary of War, Elihu Root’s and General Wood’s (both annexationists) prescriptions for future Cuban-US relations. It placed onerous restrictions on Cuban sovereignty and was immediately rejected by the constituent assembly as well as sectors of the Cuban population. Two provisions of the amendment are of particular importance:

Article III. The Government of Cuba consents that the United States may exercise the right to intervene for the preservation of Cuban independence, the maintenance of a government adequate for the protection of life, property, and individual liberty, and for discharging the obligations with respect to Cuba imposed by the Treaty of Paris on the United States, now to be assumed and undertaken by the Government of Cuba. Article VII. To enable the United States to maintain the independence of Cuba, and to protect the people thereof, as well as for its own defense, the Cuban Government will sell or lease to the United States the land necessary for coaling or naval stations, at certain specified points, to be agreed upon with the President of the United States. (As reproduced in: Leo Huberman & Paul M. Sweezy, Cuba: Anatomy of a Revolution, Monthly Review Press, New York, 1960: page 15)

As Lars Schoultz explains:

Once McKinley had signed the Platt Amendment into law, ...Root informed the Cubans that they were obliged to append it to their new constitution. When the constituent assembly refused by a vote of 24 to 2, he instructed Wood to tell the Cubans that the US occupation would continue indefinitely ‘if they continue to exhibit ingratitude and entire lack of appreciation of the expenditure of blood and treasure of the United States to secure their freedom from Spain’. [Elihu Root papers cited by Schoultz] With no alternative but capitulation, the constituent assembly grudgingly added the Amendment’s eight articles to their constitution; in return, Governor General Wood presided over Cuba’s first transition to Democracy, then sailed for home. Shortly before leaving he wrote to assure his new President, Theodore Roosevelt, that ‘there is, of course, little or no independence left Cuba under the Platt Amendment’. (Blessings of Liberty: The United States and the Promotion of Democracy in Cuba, Journal of Latin American Studies, Vol. 34, Part 2, May 2002, page 402)

Lester Langley adds some more detail to the reaction the Platt Amendment elicited from Cubans:

In Havana it precipitated widespread, but not universal, disapproval; when a Cuban group presented Wood with a formal protest, he privately characterized its members as ungrateful. The Cuban convention resolved to oppose the amendment as a violation of national sovereignty and dispatched a delegation to Washington. It arrived only to discover that McKinley had already signed the act into law. Root mollified the Cubans with a sumptuous dinner and a soothing explanation that the amendment would be interpreted narrowly and would not be exploited to impair Cuban sovereignty. Six hours of discussion ensued, during which Root reminded them that the Monroe Doctrine already gave the United States the right to intervene in Cuban affairs. (Lester D. Langley. The United States and the Caribbean in the Twentieth Century, Fourth Ed., U. of Georgia Press, 1989: page 21)

Thus on June 12, 1901, the Platt Amendment was written into the Cuban Constitution by a vote of 17 to 11 (it would be further formalized two years later by a permanent treaty between both countries). Although the US military occupation of the island “officially ended” on May 20, 1902, the US used article VII of the Platt Amendment to lease (for $2,000 a year) the land for what today is the naval station at Guantanamo Bay. The US wasn’t gone for long, either. As I will discuss in future installments of this series, the US returned to occupy Cuba between 1906 and 1909, sent troops in 1917 and continued interfering in the conduct of Cuba’s internal affairs up until the July 26 Revolution (and beyond).

(The respected popular Cuban journal Bohemia has more detail on the Platt Amendment – in Spanish).

Instead of continuing on to take a look at post-occupation Cuba, I will make a brief digression, before concluding, to examine why there wasn’t a stiff and violent resistance to the US occupation once the Spanish American War ended.

Why Didn’t Cubans Resist the Occupation?

First of all, to answer the question outright, Cubans did resist the occupation but not violently as did the Philippines. As Robert Whitney asserts in a recent round-up of Cuban scholarship before 1959:

Historians ... know that despite the long and violent independence struggles, when US troops occupied their island in 1898, many Cuban political leaders readily accepted US hegemony. Many members of Cuba’s upper classes had reluctantly joined the independence movement and had always been skeptical about the ability of Cubans to be a sovereign people. (History or Teleology? Recent Scholarship on Cuba before 1959, Latin American Research Review, Volume 36, Num. 2, 2001: pg. 222)

There was also an element of fear among the upper classes that the lower classes (and especially the blacks) would become empowered and threaten their privileged position in a post-colonial Cuban society. This angle has not been fully explored in the past and is now being pursued by scholarship from such notable researchers as Ada Ferrer (who I mentioned in Part I). Commenting on her book Insurgent Cuba: Race, Nation, and Revolution, 1868-1898, Robert Whitney says:

Ferrer shows how in both wars for independence, the simultaneous struggle against racism and colonialism fueled an insurgent energy that threatened both Cuban Creole domination and Spanish colonial rule. This revolutionary threat from the poorest sectors of the Cuban population also alarmed US leaders, and one objective of US intervention in 1898 was to block this revolution. Ferrer reveals just how revolutionary Cuba’s independence wars were. A multiracial fighting force, integrated at all ranks, carried forward a message of racial equality, land and work for the poor and total independence for Cuba.

Just as was the case in Puerto Rico (speaking from my own common knowledge), the United States represented progress, modernity and freedom to Cuba’s Creole elites, while Spain was looked upon as backwards and decadent. What was not perceived at the time (or was ignored by some) was that the United States was entering its full imperialist phase. C. Friedrich Katz notes that:

While US economic expansion into Latin America, above all into Mexico and Cuba, had begun shortly after the Civil War, political and military expansion only began in 1898. In that year, the Spanish American War, the United States easily defeated Spain and occupied its colonies on the American continent: Puerto Rico and Cuba, as well as the Philippines. (From paper entitled: US Imperial Expansion into the Caribbean and Mexico, 1898 – 1920)

(Note: For those of you more historically inclined than myself, there are some good sources which flesh out the different historical interpretations of the period and discuss the US’s emergence as an imperial power. For the time being, I’ll just recommend this one (pdf).)

I think it is important to include a note or two about the role of the Cuban exiles when discussing the lack of a fierce resistance to the US occupation. The Cuban patriot Jose Marti spent a good deal of time in exile and is probably best known for his essay Our America (rtf). Despite his strong anti-imperialist credentials, author Rodrigo Lazo notes in the introduction to his book Writing to Cuba:

In the mid-nineteenth century, Cuba's exiled writers were in many cases willing to embrace U.S. constitutional principles, if not the United States itself. They drew inspiration and political ideals from the writings of Thomas Paine, Thomas Jefferson, and Samuel Adams and from the U.S. Declaration of Independence. In addition to the content of U.S. revolutionary documents, exiles were captivated by the relationship between text and revolution exemplified by a pamphlet such as Common Sense. Their wish to recreate el sentido común for Cuba is an example of what Michael Warner describes as the "far-reaching impact both on the continent and in the New World" of the U.S. paper war waged by men of letters in the eighteenth century

Nevertheless, he says the following about what is indeed a very complex topic:

The attitudes of Cubans toward the United States, as I show throughout this study, were neither monolithic nor static. As a culture of exile and print developed in the antebellum period, some Cubans adopted expansionist positions, while others challenged the ascendancy of the United States and its slave-based economy. Thus, while the dominant strain in writings by Cuban exiles during the antebellum period is pro-United States, heterogeneous and contradictory discourses circulated as a result of the complex relationships and political alliances prompted by U.S. expansionism and Spanish colonialism.

Labels: Caribbean, Cuba, Latin America

I would like to remember my dear mother on this day, her birthday. She was a very very special person, as anyone who had known her could testify. No amount of words would be able to convey what she meant to me, so I will be brief, bordering on the prosaic.

If mom were still alive, she would be 83 years old. She left this world on this same month seven years ago, half a year after my father passed away (April, 2000). That dreadful year would not end before I lost two of my closest uncles as well (both of whom were her brothers).

As a tribute, I just want to reproduce a section of her entry in Profiles of Outstanding Virgin Islanders, where she is listed as a Pianist and Music Educator.

[Joyce Creque Mathews] graduated from Charlotte Amalie Highschool, St. Thomas [US Virgin Islands]. Her studies toward a musical career earned for her a Bachelor of Science degree in music (1950) from Polythecnic Institute (now Interamerican University, San German, Puerto Rico), a Master of Arts degree in music from Columbia University, Teacher's College, New York City (1956), and a diploma in piano from the Conservatory of Music, San Juan, Puerto Rico (1965).

Her professional career began in Mayagüez, Puerto Rico, where she was appointed music teacher (1950 - 1954) at Eugenio Maria de Hostos Highschool. However, from 1954 to 1960, she served as music supervisor for the district of Mayagüez. Regional recognition of her expertise was demonstrated in 1961 when she was chosen as zone supervisor of music for San Juan and in 1964 she was promoted to General Music Supervisor for San Juan... (Profiles of Outstanding Virgin Islanders, Vol. II, researched and written by Ruth Moolenaar, Coordinator, Project Introspection, Dept. of Education, Funded by the Virgin Islands Commission on Youth, 1986)

Three years prior to my graduation from highschool, she reluctantly took the Directorship of the Music Program for the entire island of Puerto Rico, a position she held until retirement. The only anecdote I wish to offer is the following: My mother once told me that she was being groomed to become a concert pianist (Grandfather Cyril Creque, also a pianist and organist of highest rank, had obliged all siblings to learn an instrument - my mother, being the first born, was given particular instruction in this respect). Since the profession demands extraordinary dedication, a life-long commitment and time, she said that she had to decide between pursuing such a career or starting a family. She opted for the latter, for which I am eternally grateful, of course. Sometimes, though, when I hear her playing (links below), I wonder if she made the wrong choice. God Bless Her.

Brahms Rhapsody in G minor

Beethoven First Movement of Moonlight Serenade

Bach We Praise Thee Oh God

Labels: Caribbean, Music, Puerto Rico

Mater center of the nationality, Bahia is the most emblematic of all Brazilian states. Starting point of history. It transformed itself in an eternal transmutation, in a constant mutation point, copious font of traditions and of cultural renovation. Its land was sprinkled with the blood of the warriors for independence, which were glorified by Castro Alves, the most popular of all our poets. It is in Bahia where the Brazilian baroque has its highest expression serving of inspiration to the music of Caymmi, João Gilberto, Caetano Veloso y Gilberto Gil. Every day is a commemoration day. Censo Cultural de Bahia, Secretaria da Cultura e Secretaria do Turismo

I returned recently from a work related trip to Brasil, the main purpose of which was to participate in the the 32nd Annual Congress of the Caribbean Studies Association. Although I had been a regular participant from 1984 to 1998 (except for the years I was away doing my dissertation), I was renewing my ties to the association after a 9 year hiatus. The highlight of my visit, though, was the opportunity to see more of a northeastern Brasilian state that I have come to love since my first visit to the region several years ago. As a student of the Caribbean, it is only natural (if you accept as a defining element of Caribbean identity a common historical legacy of plantation slavery and its inseparable opposite: marronage) to be drawn to the Northeast of Brasil; a deciding factor as well in the odd choice of Salvador for the celebration of a “Caribbean” conference.

My first trip to Salvador da Bahia, in July of 2002, benefited enormously from the help of João José Reis*, Professor of History at the Federal University of Bahia in Salvador. His name had been suggested to me by researchers Richard and Sally Price and he turned out to be of incalculable help with everything from finding reasonable places to stay to successfully identifying points of interest for my visit (which included a trip to the city of Recife and its adjacent town of Olinda in Pernambuco). As an added bonus, it was through the distinguished historian of Bahia that I came to learn about the famous Muslim slave uprising.


Being the son of a historian, I was naturally drawn to places of historical interest. From Olinda, I went to Ilha de Itamaraca where I visited (of course) Fort Oranje. While the expulsion of the Dutch is celebrated in Brasil, it signified the spreading of the slave-based plantation economy to the Eastern Caribbean. According to Cornelis Ch. Goslinga:

During the years of the [Dutch West India] company's decline, great changes had occured in the Caribbean area.  Sugarcane, which had been introduced in the West Indies by Columbus a century and a half earlier, was under cultivation on most of the islands prior to 1650.  The English and the French, however, had not known how to convert the cane into sugar, molasses and rum.  Dutch refugees from Brazil, who poured into the area after 1654, brought with them the techniques of sugar cultivation and manufacture.  Furthermore, Dutch capital helped the French and English planters purchase the necessary equipment on a credit basis.  Dutch control of the slave markets in Africa secured the necessary labor.  Dutch ships bought up the sugar crops and provided the colonies with food, hardware and other needed commodities throughout that period of English civil strife when the London government could do little to help them.  The Dutch did the same with the French. (pages 333-334 of The Dutch in the Caribbean and on the Wild Coast, 1580-1680)

For another (lesser) consequence for the Caribbean of the expulsion of the Dutch from Pernambuco, see this.

Hence, my first trip covered a lot of ground, thanks in no small measure to the guidance from João as well as my own informed curiosity. The Northeast of Brasil is so rich in culture and history, however, that a handful of trips, however well advised and planned, can only scratch the surface. On my second trip, I wanted to explore more of the Recôncavo, the fertile agricultural region embracing All Saints Bay, that is also home to some of Brasil's richest and most cherished cultural traditions, including a wide array of afro-Bahian expressions.

I had to await this second opportunity to fulfill my wish to visit some of the smaller towns of the Recôncavo. One of these was the town of Cachoeira, birthplace of the abolitionist poet Antônio de Castro Alves, and location of the Sisterhood of the Good Death, a Black lay sodality that had drawn my interest during my first trip.


As the Sisterhood's own website states:

The history of the Irmandade da Boa Morte (Sisterhood of the Good Death), a religious confraternity devoted to the Assumption of the Virgin, is part of the history of mass importation of blacks from the African coast to the cane-growing Recôncavo region of Bahia. Iberian adventurers built beautiful towns in this area, one of them being Cachoeira, which was the second most important economic center in Bahia for three centuries. In a patriarchal society marked by racial and ethnic differences, the confraternity is made up exclusively of black women, which gives this Afro-Catholic manifestation - as some consider it - a certain fame. It is known both as an expression of Brazilian baroque Catholicism, with its distinctive street processions, and for its tendency to include in religious festivals profane rituals punctuated by a lot of samba and banqueting.

Thus, I joined two other CSA conference participants on a one-day tour with an exceptional guide through portions of the Recôncavo on the way to the twin towns of Cachoeira and Sao Felix. On the way to the Sisterhood, we made several stops which enriched my experience even more than I had expected. The first was to a bountiful outdoor market at Santo Amaro, birthplace of Caetano Veloso and his sister Maria Bethânia.



Santo Amaro’s colonial legacy is directly tied to the world of the sugar plantation. Although the latter has since been supplanted by the paper industry, mansions of the sugar barons can still be seen along with several churches. The town’s largest church, the Igreja de Nossa Senhora da Purificação is located in the town square (see photo, above). A few steps from where I took that photo, is a plaque commemorating the poet Caetano Veloso (right: click to enlarge). The plaque reads Ao poeta Caetano Veloso O reconhecimento do povo de sua terra neste meio seculo de poesia Santo Amaro 2(?) de Agosto de 1992.

Our next stop was at a small rural community of (formerly) landless workers that belonged to the Movimento dos Trabalhadore Rurais Sem Terra (MST), Brasil's famed Movement of Landless Rural Workers. This was an added bonus since it was not scheduled on the formal tour. Nevertheless, our wonderful tour guide, who was clearly sympathetic to the MST, asked us if we would like to stop briefly to see and meet members the community, to which all three of us enthusiastically agreed. As expressed in their web-site, the MST clearly situates their movement in the country’s rich history of resistance groups, dating all the way back to the Quilombos (another key tradition that Brasil shares with the Caribbean):

Para falar sobre a trajetória do MST é preciso falar da história da concentração fundiária que marca o Brasil desde 1500. Por conta disso, aconteceram diversas formas de resistência como os Quilombos, Canudos, as Ligas Camponesas, as lutas de Trombas e Formoso, a Guerrilha do Araguaia, entre muitas outras.

In stressing the legitimacy of their cause, the cooperative workers highlight the fact that the land they rescued was idle or “unproductive” land held for the most part by the country’s financial sector. Their cause is furthermore backed by Article 186 of the Brazilian Constitution and has the support of the Lula government. While I was impressed with the activity I witnessed in the cooperative, which included the processing of cacao (chocolate) and other agricultural goods for commercial purposes, I couldn't help but wonder what these people could accomplish with a relatively small infusion of cheap capital. Clearly there was pride and motivation in their endeavors. See this for additional information about the situation of landless rural workers in Brasil.


Our next stop was at the mangrove and artesanal fishing village of Acupe which, if I recall correctly, was also linked to the MST. We were lucky enough to arrive at precisely the time the fishing boats were returning with the day’s catch to distribute at the cooperative. If you look carefully behind the beached vessel in the photo, you can make out the distribution of the fish from the canoes to awaiting consumers. On the way out of the town we searched out for inconspicuous candomble terreiros hidden among the town dwellings.

The Recôncavo in general and Cachoeira, in particular, have a high concentration of candomble terreiros, reflecting the rich African heritage of the region. Sufficient publicity is offered by the various tourist agencies bent on promoting excursions (including visits to terreiros to “witness” religious ceremonies), so there is no need for me to go into that here. For the city of Salvador, there are good resources like Bahia Online, which provide background for the itinerant visitor. Publicity is also evidenced in overseas media like the New York Times. The Sisterhood of the Good Death even has an English language Wikipedia entry.


Cachoeira is situated beside the Rio Paraguaçu below a series of hills. The river divides Cachoeira from its sister town, São Félix (above). While sugar cane has been the principle crop associated with the Recôncavo, Cachoeira is at the center of the country’s best tobacco-growing region; other main crops include cashews and oranges. When we reached Cachoeira, it was getting late, so we visited the Sisterhood and took a whirlwind tour of the town before returning to Salvador.

I would like to conclude by drawing attention to the renown soprano Inaicyra Falcão dos Santos, whose fascinating CD of traditional Yoruban songs set to orchestral arrangments, OKAN AWA, I purchased on my first visit to Bahia. It can be sampled and ordered here. According to that source:

Inaicyra is daughter of noted Mestre Didi Axipá (Deoscóredes Maximiliano dos Santos), a candomblé priest (of the Egungun on the island of Itaparica) who in his writings and art explored Nagô traditions in Bahia. She is also a great-great-granddaughter of Marcelina da Silva -- Obá Tossi -- captured in the Oyá region of Africa and brought to Bahia where she would eventually become a founder and high-priestess of house of candomblé Casa Branca.

*João José Reis is the author of a number of works on African slavery, Africans and people of African descent in Brasil, including the books Slave Rebellion in Brazil: The Muslim Uprising of 1835 in Bahia and Death Is a Festival: Funeral Rites and Rebellion in Nineteenth-Century Brazil; He is also winner of the 1996 Clarence H. Haring Prize, American Historical Association; the 1992 Jabuti Prize for Nonfiction, Brazilian Book Council; and was chosen as a 2004 Choice Outstanding Academic Title.

Labels: Brazil, Caribbean, History, Latin America, Music