Mexico in the Context of the Transatlantic Slave
Trade
Bobbie Vaughn
The presence of people of African descent in Mexico,
while a subject that never ceases to fascinate me in my studies, has scarcely
raised an eyebrow neither in Mexico, nor in the larger world. Part of
this is due to the fact that their presence is largely unknown outside
of the rural regions where the majority of them live. Their numbers are
relatively small, and they have not generally made a point of making their
presence widely known. In this article, I will offer a brief historical
foreground of the Afro-Mexican population, primarily to situate their
experience within the larger framework of the TransAtlantic slave trade.
The purpose of this article, however, is to present some ethnographic
data on the contemporary populations of Afro-Mexicans. The vast majority
of Afro-Mexicans reside on opposite coasts of Mexico--the Pacific Costa
Chica region, and the Gulf Coast state of Veracruz. This article will
treat both populations in comparative perspective, and, instead of pretending
to present a definitive piece of ethnographic truth, I hope to raise questions,
and pose issues for further research.
When most think of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade that brought millions
of Africans to the Western Hemisphere, Mexico is rarely a country one
thinks of. When one considers the impact of the slave trade on Latin America,
most of the attention is placed on the countries where we find very large
Black populations today. In South America, one considers first and foremost,
Brazil, and to a lesser extent, Colombia and possibly Venezuela. Attention
then shifts to much of the Caribbean, be they the Spanish-speaking countries
such as Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico, or the French-speaking
Haiti, or the English-speaking Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, and Barbados.
These are countries where the Black presence has been large, if not the
majority, and they are places from which immigrants have increasingly
arrived to the United States and have played an increasing role in our
popular culture, music, and sports.
The vast majority of these Black peoples--a total of some 8.5 million!--arrived
to the hemisphere at some point between 1519-1867. As is well known, these
slaves were brought to augment, or replace an indigenous work force that
for various reasons (some cultural), was determined to be less cost-effective,
or otherwise inadequate for the labor intensive productive endeavors for
which the slaves were used. In most of these countries, a mercantilist
economy of extraction converted many of these countries into export-exclusive
economies. Slave labor was the vehicle by which the treasures of the "New
World" would be exploited: precious metals, sugar, coffee, cotton,
etc.
New Spain (the Spanish colony that roughly corresponds to contemporary
Mexico) also participated in this mercantilist political economy, and
African slave labor was certainly utilized. Particularly in earliest stages
of the slave trade--the 16th and early 17th centuries--Mexico played a
prominent role. This was a time when the Spanish Empire controlled nearly
the entire newly "discovered" hemisphere. Later, the Portuguese
would begin to exploit Brazil unencumbered by the Spanish Crown, and the
English would enter the traffic in human bodies at full strength, making
the 18th century the peak of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. But before
the large-scale traffic in sugar, tobacco, cotton, and human beings that
would completely change the face of the Americas there lived a man named
Juan--a slave who landed in Mexico in 1519.
The first African brought to New Spain is said to be one Juan Cortés,
a slave who accompanied the conquistador Hernán Cortés in
1519. The indígenas, apparently captivated by his dark skin, never
having seen an African before, took him for a god. Another of the early
conquistadores, Pánfilo Narváez, brought a slave who is
said to have carried with him the devastating smallpox epidemic of 1520.
Juan Garret was yet another of these early Black arrivals, and in addition
to participating in defeat of the great Aztec City of Tenochtitlán,
is also thought to be the first man to sow wheat in Mexico. Garret took
part in various Spanish expeditions, including a trek to Michoacán
in 1523-1524, and Cortés' last great expedition to Baja California
in 1535-1536 (Gerhard 1978).
Perhaps the most illustrious of the early Black slaves in New Spain was
Estebanico. Estebanico was part of an ill-fated expedition from Mexico
City to Florida in 1528. Estebanico and 3 Spanish soldiers survived shipwreck
and wandered lost for eight years. During those eight years, they wandered
what is now the southern United States, and northern Mexico, from the
mouth of the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, by way of Texas,
New Mexico, Chihuahua, Sonora, and Sinaloa. He and his party survived
and eventually returned to Mexico City, where a last expedition was organized.
Estebanico never returned from this one, and his fate remains a mystery
(Cue Cánovas 1963:48-49; Orozco Linares 1992:100-101; Simpson 1976:65-66).
These early slaves were essentially personal servants of their Spanish
masters. They were most likely taken from West Africa, then transported
to Seville, where they were Christianized, and learned Spanish. These
slaves were not part of a mass slave trade. The slave trade that changed
the demographic face of Mexico began when the Spanish monarch, Carlos
V, began issuing more and more asientos, or
contracts between the Crown and private slavers, in order to expedite
the importation of slaves in the 1590s. The Spanish Crown would issue
these contracts to foreign slavers, who would then make deals with the
Portuguese, for they controlled the slaving operations on the West African
coast.
When one examines the geographic distribution of Afro-Mexicans today,
it is tempting to assume that the Black experience in Mexico has been
an entirely coastal one. However, the historical record evidences a large
concentration of Blacks in urban centers. In fact, the majority of the
slaves in New Spain worked in the central mining centers of Guanajuato
and Zacatecas, as well as in the metropolis of Mexico City (see Ngou-Mve
[1994] for Blacks in mines, and Bowser [1975] and Seed [1982] for more
on urban Blacks in New Spain).
Africans were also deployed to the rural coasts of Veracruz on the Gulf
of Mexico, and to the pacific coastal region called the Costa Chica, comprising
the states of Guerrero and Oaxaca. In Veracruz, Black slaves were used
primarily in the labor-intensive sugar industry of Xalapa in the late
16th, and early mid-17th century. In these sugar processing mill and cane
fields, African slaves were imported specifically to replace Indian laborers.
On the Pacific coastal plains, Blacks worked mainly as ranchers and cowboys,
for livestock was the primary economic activity of this region in the
colonial period, and continues to be important to the local economies
today.
The Costa Chica and Veracruz: Origin Narratives
The Costa Chica and Veracruz are where the vast majority of Afro-Mexicans
live today, and here I will offer some ethnographic notes that might serve
as a point of departure for further analysis and comparison. When I refer
to Afro-Mexican communities or towns, I am referring to any number of
towns in both the state of Veracruz, and the coastal plains of the states
of Guerrero and Oaxaca. These communities are home to significant concentrations
of people who self-identify as negro or moreno. In Veracruz, these towns
would include (but are not limited to): Tamiahua, Mata Clara, El Coyolillo,
Jamapa, and Tierra Blanca. In the Costa Chica, the list is much larger,
and a partial list would include: (Oaxaca state) El Ciruelo, Collantes,
Cerro de la Esperanza, Corralero, Santo Domingo, Tapextla, and Chacahua;
(Guerrero state) Cuajinicuilapa, Barajillas, Maldonado, San Nicolás,
Montesillos, and Tierra Colorada.
In Veracruz, most Afro-Mexican people that I have spoken with trace their
origins to Cuba, while in the Costa Chica, there is a less-developed idea
as to how they (Blacks) came to live where they are. Because of Veracruz's
proximity to the Caribbean, and the relatively constant contact between
Cuba and Veracruz since the colonial period, and more importantly, in
the last half century, Veracruz has always touted a certain kinship with
Cuba. Rather than offer a detailed narrative as to the circumstances under
which they arrived from Cuba, most Afro-Veracruzanos understand their
origins as a matter of common sense. One man, quite proud of his Afro-Veracruzano
heritage, over the course of a long discussion with me remarked,
"Pues, ya sabrás que los negros vienen de Cuba. [Well,
I'm sure you know that the Blacks come from Cuba]." I then suggested
to him that there is historical evidence of a slave trade that brought
Blacks directly from Africa to Veracruz, and our discussion continued.
Why is it assumed that Black Veracruzanos come from Cuba? Why is Cuba
generally associated in Mexico, as a Black country? Further ethno-historic
research into 20th century Veracruz would likely show that the immigration
of a large number of Cuban big band musicians might lead us to some answers.
In the 1940s and 1950s a mambo craze swept
Mexico, and the ambassadors of this new popular music genre were largely
Black Cubans. I believe that further research into this phenomenon might
suggest an emergent presence of Black musicians both in the urban ballroom
dancing scenes of Veracruz and Mexico City, as well as in the Mexican
media in general. It is my tentative view that the image of Blackness
in Veracruz has much more to do with the 20th Century Cuban immigration
than it does with the Afro-Veracruzano slave trade. The fact that a key
element of Veracruzano popular culture is the quintessentially Cuban danzón
suggests this Cuban influence.1
In the Costa Chica, no notion of Cuba is evoked to explain the origins
of the Black presence. The Black Mexicans will invariably talk about any
number of shipwrecks from which their ancestors escaped. Depending on
what town they are from, the ship could have wrecked at El Faro, Puerto
Miniso, or Playa Blanca. Some older people have told me that a particular
not-too-distant relative of theirs came from that ship, and they say the
remains of the ship can still be seen. The historical inaccuracy of these
narratives notwithstanding, they raise provocative questions with which
ethnographers need to struggle. There seems to be next to no consciousness
of slavery among people in the Costa Chica, nor any understanding of a
link to Africa. Why, then is the ship narrative so salient? Is this narrative
part of a larger oral history that has yet to be gathered? In addition,
there is ample historical evidence to suggest the importance of cimarrones,
or runaway slave communities, in the Costa Chica. However, Black people
I have interviewed do not mention such a past. How might these Black communities
differ from other African Diaspora communities that clearly assert their
cimarron heritage? A larger question that might serve as an important
line of inquiry might ask the extent to which oral histories in slave
societies allow a people to remember, as well as to forget.
Ethnographic Notes: What Traditional Music Can
Teach us about Culture and History
While they derive from the same legacy of slavery, the Blacks in the Costa
Chica and those in Veracruz should probably be seen as two distinct communities
living in two different regions of Mexico. The cultural influences, ethnic
milieu, geography, and economies are substantially different from one
coast to the other. Rather than look solely for continuities that suggest
a shared African origin, I prefer to look at the myriad differences that
tease out the fluidity and creativity of culture. Very little ethno-historical
work has been undertaken that would explore possible cultural or historical
linkages between the two populations. Most of the scholarship on Afro-Mexicans
has tended, rather, to focus on one coast or the other, and an analysis
that would treat both regions would make an important contribution. Here,
I will give a brief survey of some of the cultural elements which first
strike one that visits the two landscapes, paying attention primarily
to musical traditions. Unfortunately, since my own research focus is the
Costa Chica, I can not present a systematic comparison with Veracruz,
having done less work there.
Veracruz and the Son Jarocho
Perhaps the music that best personifies the culture of Veracruz is the
son jarocho.2 Jarocho is
the moniker by which most Veracruzanos identify their regional identity,
regardless of their race. But the word's origins have everything to do
with Blackness. In the colonial era, the word was used to refer to Blacks
of mixed race (Aguirre Beltrán 1989 [1946]):169), and or to Blacks
in general. The son jarocho is a musical genera
that has strong African elements, as well as a lyrical structure that
suggests its European heritage. It is a festive genre in which the center
of attention is the pairs of male and female dancers who dance atop a
wood platform. Their rhythmic stamping provides the percussion to accompany
the strumming of the all-important jarana,
which is a smaller cousin of the guitar.
The most curious of the instruments is one that is almost certainly of
African origin: the marimbol3.
The marimbol is a wood box with a round sound
hole cut in the center of it. Across this hole, a number of metal strips
are attached. These metal strips are tuned to different pitches, and are
plucked to produce a deep basslike sound. The marimbol
provides a driving bassline for the music. The vocals are often a series
of repeating verses sung by two male or female soloists, one responding
to the other. A kind of melodic shouting in falsetto creates a curious
vocal timbre. The themes are generally lighthearted love longs, and are
often quite comical. The popular song "La Bamba" is a traditional
son jarocho. I have found historical evidence
of the son jarocho being danced as early as
1816 by blacks in Veracruz, where the observer describes a large dance
contest of men and women. ("Todos negros atezados
y una y uno de ellos bailando un zapateado sin moverse de un lugar/all
of them darkskinned Blacks and each of them dancing a tap-dance without
moving from their spot.) (Poblett Miranda and Delgado 1992:v.2, 209)."
The son jarocho is not simply a relic from
the past, preserved by the older generations, however. There are countless
performers throughout the central and southern parts of the state. In
addition to Afro-Mexican towns, like El Coyolillo, and mestizo
towns, like Tlacotalpan, the son jarocho is
also performed in indigenous communities in indigenous languages. Thus,
the son jarocho is an example of the confluence
of cultures in Veracruz, where the son, in
spite of being a product of different heritages or perhaps precisely because
of this is embraced by nearly all Veracruzanos as an important part of
their jarocho identity.
Diablos in the Costa Chica
In the Costa Chica, one of the regional dances that is most associated
with the negros is the danza de los diablos
[dance of the devils]. While the dance is performed in any number of Afro-Mexican
towns in the region, the town of Collantes is most renown for its performance
of it. In Collantes, the energetic dance is performed during Todos
Santos [All Saints' Day] celebrations in November, and the group
of about 20 male dancers and 3 musicians wander through the streets, stopping
to dance in front of homes that wish to give them a small ofrenda of money,
or food. In contrast to Veracruz's son jarocho,
the danza de los diablos is not a couple's
dance, but is a performance in which all participants wear elaborate masks.
The basic elements of the dance have 3 rows of dancers, all dressed alike,
executing a syncopated stomping, all in unison, while the
terrón, also called the diablo mayor,
whips the dancers and otherwise intimidates them. In addition to the terrón,
there is the dancer called la minga, who is
always a male dancer dressed as a woman in a long dress.
La Minga is the terrón's wife, and flirts with the dancers
in order to get them into more trouble with her husband. There is a slapstick
quality to the dance, and the terrón will often go after children
in the audience to further excite the laughing crowd.
The instruments used in the danza de los diablos
are typically a harmonica, a jicada, or a
cow's jawbone, whose teeth are raked with a stick to keep rhythm, and
a peculiar instrument called an arcusa. The
arcusa is a large hollow gourd with a thin
waxed stick fastened to the mouth. As the musician strokes the stick,
a low grunting sound is produced. The dance's origins appear to be in
part of African origin, and it is speculated that in the colonial era
it was overtly part of an African cult to the god Ruja. While no mention
of Ruja or religious cults exists in the way the dance is performed today,
it certainly dramatizes the more recent historical conflicts between Black
workers and cruel overseers. While the son jarocho
is danced by Veracruzanos irrespective of ethnic heritage, the danza
de los diablos is not performed, neither in indigenous, nor in
mestizo communities, but is essentially an Afro-Mexican tradition.
A Costa Chica dance that is performed by Afro-Mexicans and mestizos
alike is the chilena.4 The chilena,
as its name suggests, was introduced to the coast by Chilean sailors in
the mid 19th century. These sailors were most likely on their way to the
California coast during the gold rush, and stopped for a time in Acapulco.
There, they taught their music and dance, the cueca,
to the
Black dockhands, who spread their interpretation of it throughout the
Costa Chica. The chilena is now considered
the singlemost characteristic artform of the Costa Chica.
Conclusions
What is missing in the literature, to my knowlege, is a systematic comparison
of these musical forms to arrive at their origins. Clearly, their origins
are complex, and involve the meshing of at least African, indigenous,
and Spanish elements. While the goal of studying Afro-American communities
is not simply to isolate out certain elements as "African" and
others as indigenous, etc., the mysteries of these origins can supply
a piece to the puzzle of understudying these communities in their totality.
Another line of inquiry with respect to these cultural elements is precisely
the question of whether and how certain traditions come to be seen as
"black," and others as regional, or national. How is it that
certain traditions garner a cultural capital at certain historical moments?
For example, why has there been a growing interest among people in Veracruz
in learning the son jarocho? Why is it that
in the last 5 years, dancers who dance the danza
de los diablos are increasingly receiving invitations from throughout
the country to perform at festivals? Perhaps it is the product of a new
cultural pluralism in Mexico. Further examination of the politics behind
this reclaiming (rescate) of these cultural forms would be a fruitful
area of research.
The Afro-Mexican experience is varied and complex. In some ways it subverts
conventional thinking about Blackness and Mexican-ness race and nationality.
Further research into the encounter of Afro-Mexicans with Mexico's indigenous
communities is an important part of the effort to understand this experience.
Blacks in the Costa Chica and Veracruz live in varying proximity to Mixtecs,
Amuzgos, and Popoluca indigenous groups. What is the character of the
relations among these groups, and with the dominant
mestizo majority? And how might prevailing ideas of race mixing
and mestizaje--ideas that are central to Mexican
nationalist thought (and politics)--be understood and transformed by Afro-Mexicans?
These Blacks are increasingly migrating to the United States and encountering
different racial discourses. An examination of Afro-Mexican history, contemporary
culture, and these new processes of migration will lead to a greater understanding
of race, ethnicity, and nationalism in the Mexican context, while presenting
yet another facet of the African Diaspora.
Works Cited
Aguirre Beltrán, Gonzalo
1989 [1946] La población negra de Mexico: estudio etnohistorico.
México City: Fondo de Cultura Económica.
Bowser, Frederick P.
1975 The Free Person of Color in Mexico City and Lima: Manumission and
Opportunity, 1580-1650. In Race and Slavery in the Western Hemisphere:
Quantitative Studies. Engerman and Genovese, eds. Princeton: Princeton
University Press.
Cue Cánovas, Agustín
1963 Historia social y económica de México, 1521-1854. Mexico:
Trillas.
Figueroa Hernández, Rafael
1996 Salsa mexicana: transculturación e identidad. Xalapa, Veracruz:
ConClave.
Gerhard, Peter
1978 A Black Conquistador in Mexico: Juan Garrido. Hispanic American Historical
Review 58(3):451-459.
Martre, Gonzalo
1997 Rumberos de Ayer: Musicos Cubanos en México (1930-1950): Instituto
Veracruzano de Cultura.
Ngou-Mve, Nicolás
1994 El Africa Bantu en la colonización de México: 1595-1640.
Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones CientÌficias: Agencia
Española de Cooperación Internacional.
Ochoa Campos, Moisés
1987 La chilena guerrense. Chilpancingo, Gro.: Gobierno del Estado de
Guerrero.
Orozco Linares, Fernando
1992 Historia de México. Mexico: Panorama.
Poblett Miranda, Martha, and Ana Laura Delgado
1992 Cien viajeros en Veracruz: crónicas y relatos. Xalapa: Gobierno
del Estado de Veracruz.
Seed, Patricia
1982 Social Dimensions of Race, Mexico City 1753. Hispanic American Historical
Review 62(4):569-606.
Simpson, Lesley Byrd
1976 Muchos Mexicos. Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Económica.
1. For more on the Cuban influence on Mexicoís popular culture,
see Figueroa Hernández 1996 and Martre 1997.
2. Anyone interested in more information about son
jarocho can contact Ricardo Perry at: Centro de Documentación
y Enseñanza del Son Jarocho A.C., Galena 1201, Jáltipan,
Veracruz 96200, México. Suggested recordings that attempt to be
faithful to the son tradition would include the following groups: Son
de Madera, Mono Blanco, and Chuchumbé.
3. Marimbol player Octavio Rebolledo, of Son de Madera, is currently researching
the origins of this instrument, and he has travelled to Haiti in his ongoing
search for clues.
4. The best work on the history of chilena is Ochoa Campos 1987, and more
vivid description of this, and other dances can be found at a website
dedicated to the culture of coastal Oaxaca (http://www. tomzap.com/dance.html).
Bibliographic Comments
While the works cited in the above article can serve as points of departure
for further study of the Afro-Mexican experience, the following brief
outline suggests additional materials that may assist in further inquiry
into the subject.
The majority of the academic work that has been done on Afro-Mexico has
focused on colonial history and slave society. The tourdeforce in Afro-Mexican
studies continues to be Gonzalo Aguirre Beltrán's pioneering work,
La Población Negra de México
(Aguirre Beltrán 1989 [1946]), which presents rich documentation
of the Mexican slave trade and addresses the African tribal origins of
Blacks taken to Mexico. In addition, Aguirre Beltrán's study also
uses census data to flesh out a kind of racial demography of colonial
Mexico. Colin Palmer's Slaves of the White God
(Palmer 1976), another important monograph on Afro-Mexican colonial
history, contains a particularly rich treatment of Black slave labor as
compared with the labor of the indigenous people in Mexico. This book
also contains an important discussion of the restrictive colonial legislation
aimed at Blacks as a result of Spanish wariness in the face of a rise
in slave insurrections. The other important historical work I will mention
is Martínez Montiel's (1994) edited volume containing studies that
document the presence of Blacks throughout Mexico in the colonial era.
With respect to the ethnographic treatments of contemporary Afro-Mexicans,
the only published monograph specifically on the subject is Aguirre Beltrán's
Cuijla: Esbozo etnográfico de un pueblo
negro (Aguirre Beltrán 1989 [1958]). This book treats the
Costa Chica town of Cuajinicuilapa as it existed in the 1950s, and treats
customs, traditions, language, and violence in the region in some detail.
A book by Veronique Flanet, Viviré, Si
Dios Quiere (Flanet 1977) focuses primarily on indigenous communities
in the Costa Chica, but offers rich information about the sometimes antagonistic
relations between indígenas and Blacks. Other published ethnographic
articles on the Costa Chica would include Moedano Navarro's treatment
of Afro-Mexicans verse and music (1988), Althoff's study of language patterns
among Blacks (1994), and Gutiérrez Avila's study of Afro-Mexicans
corridos and their violent content (Gutiérrez Avila 1988).
Ethnographic work on the Veracruz region is limited, but includes several
published articles, and some hard to find Mexican theses and reports.
Among the published articles is Cruz Carretero's treatment of carnaval
in the town of Yanga (Cruz Carretero 1990), and Winifield Capitaineís
(Winfield Capitaine 1975) study of carnaval in the community of El Coyolillo.
El Coyolillo and questions of racial identity is the subject of another
ethnographic article by Martínez Maranto (MartÌnez Maranto
1994). The most interesting ethnographic work on Afro-Veracruzanos is
Cruz Carretero's as yet unpublished thesis (Cruz Carretero 1989) dealing
with race in the Afro-Mexican town of Mata Clara.
Resources
Historical Works
Aguirre Beltrán, Gonzalo
1989 [1946] La población negra de México: estudio ethnohistórico.
Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Económica.
Carroll, Patrick J.
1991 Blacks in Colonial Veracruz: Race, Ethnicity, and Regional Development.
Austin: University of Texas Press.
Martínez Montiel, Luz María
1994 Presencia Africana en México. Mexico City: Dirección
General de Culturas Populares
Palmer, Colin A.
1976 Slaves of the White God: Blacks in Mexico, 1570-1650. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press.
Ethnography of the Costa Chica
Aguirre Beltrán, Gonzalo
1989 [1958] Cuijla: esbozo etnográfico de un pueblo negro. Mexico:
Fondo de Cultura Económica.
Althoff, Daniel
1994 AfroMestizo Speech from Costa Chica, Guerrero: From Cuaji to Cuijla.
Language Problems and Language Planning 18(3): 242-256.
Flanet, Veronique
1977 Viviré, si dios quiere: un estudio de la violencia de la Mixteca
de la costa. Mercado, Tununa, transl. Mexico: Instituto Nacional IndigenÌsta.
GutiÈrrez Avila, Miguel Angel
1988 Corrido y violencia: entre los afromestizos de la Costa Chica de
Guerrero y Oaxaca. Mexico: Universidad Autónoma de Guerrero.
Moedano Navarro, Gabriel
1988 El arte verbal afromestizo de la Costa Chica de Guerrero: situación
actual y necesidades de su investigación. Anales de Antropología
25:283-296.
Ethnography of Veracruz
Cruz Carretero, Sagrario
1989 Identidad en una comunidad afromestiza del centro de Veracruz: La
poblaciÛn de Mata Clara. TÈsis de Licenciatura. FundaciÛn
Universidad de las AmÈricas.
Cruz Carretero, Sagrario, et. al.,
1990 El Carnaval en Yanga: notas y comentarios sobre una fiesta de la
negritud. Mexico: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes.
MartÌnez Maranto, Alfredo
1994 Dios pinta como quiere: Identidad y cultura en un pueblo afromestizo
de Veracruz. In Presencia africana en México. L. M. MartÌnez
Montiel, ed. pp. 525-573. Mexico City: Dirección General de Culturas
Populares.
Winfield Capitaine, Fernando
1975 Notas sobre el carnaval en una comunidad negra de Veracruz. Cuadernos
Afroamericanos, Universidad Central de Venezuela, Caracas 1(1):135-142.
|
