Santeria and the Historical Construction of Political and Social Relations in Cuba

Frank Ridsdaie

Depanment of Anthropology

Submitted in partial filfilment o f the requirements for the degree of

Master of Arts

Faculty of Graduate Studies The University of Western Ontario

London, Ontario September 1998

0 Frank Ridsdale 1998

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Abstract

This thesis explores the histoncal construction of political and social relations in

Cuba from the arriva1 of Columbus to the 1959 Cuban Revolution. It questions how

economic, social and political regional differences politically divided the country, affected

race relations, contributed to Cuba's independence from Spain, and were expressed in the

1959 Cuban Revolution. The thesis also examines how these differences shaped Santeria.

an AFncan-Cuban religion. Using Antonio Gramsci's notion of heçemony as a theoretical

tool for revealing the fundamental historical relationships within and among social groups

in Cuba, this project points up the different ways in which the development of Santeria

was related to the reçionally specific political, econornic, and social contexts in which

Santena's practitioners were living. This thesis is also siçnificant in stressing the

importance of studying the intersection of both cultural and social processes within a

historical frame.

Keywords: Santeria, Cuba, religion, politics, history

Acknowledgements

1 have incurred many debts in the course of researchinç and wntinç this thesis and have

benefitted from the penerosity of many people. First and foremost, I wish to express my

gratitude to my supervisor, Kim Clark, whose advice and discussions have helped me to

focus on the central issues in this thesis rather than just seeinç the pieces. She lias offered

insightful guidance and encouragement through the entire path of this inquiry. Her

intellectual skill, her attention to detail and her generosity have left me inspired to continue

with postçraduate work.

During my time in Cuba, people engaged in various fields of espenise freely offered to

me their friendship, insiçht and professional advice. The following santeros were

enlightening and stimulating to talk with: Zoraida Manines, Robeno Quesada Guillez,

Mkeja Heruecuedez, Dr. Rembeno Reynaldo Chaguaceda, Emile (practitioner of both

Santena and Palo), Michel and Aurora. 1 owe thanks to Natalia Bolivar Arostequi and

Jorge Ibarra for stressing the importance of Cuban history in my research. And 1 want

especially to thank Mario Masvidal and Alexander Gondlez Almagoer. not only for

making me feel at home in Cuba, but also for being true friends.

1 am grateful to my colleaçues at the University of Western Ontario for their suppon

and reassurance during the preparations for this thesis. Thank you Jodi Harper, Paul

Hong, Susan Hagopian, and Duffenn Murray. 1 also appreciate Callie Cesarini's

oganizational skills and her fnendly guidance on the proper formatting of the thesis.

Finally, 1 owe special appreciation to rny life partner, Susan Ellis, for offering

intellectual, creative and emotional support from the beçinning to the end of this project.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Certificate of examination Abstract Acknowledçements Table of contents List of tabIes

Introduction Notes

Chapter 1 - Histoncal Transformations of Santeria from Afnca to Cuba Introduction - Ideas and Practices in Motion Afnca Organization of Worship and Worldview of the Yoruba Cuba Folk Catholicism in Spain Summary and Conclusions Notes

Chapter 2 - Religion and Social Relations in Nineteenth Century Cuba Cuba's Free Black Population The Catholic Church in Cuba The Conflict between Church and State in the Nineteenth Century Cabildos and the Catholic Church The Catholic Church in the Countryside Lucumi 'Ethnicity' and the Binh of Santeria Santena in Cuba Divination Patakis Espiritisrno The Ten Years War (186801878) Laie Nineteent h Century Repression Conclusion and Summary Notes

. I I *.. 111

iv v

vii

Chapter 2 - Santeria and Social and Political Changes in Twentieth Century Cuba 75 Late Nineteenth Century and Early Twentieth Century Racism

and &an-Cuban Religions 75 American Interventionism 79 Afro-Cubanism in the 1920's and 1930's S 1

Politics and Society in Cuba in the 1930's - 1950s Rural Cuba in the 1930's- 1950's Batista Returns to Power Fidel Castro and the Revolution Summary and Conclusions Notes

Conclusions S yncretism Hegemony Intersection of Global and Local Processes Cultural and Social Dimensions of Analysis

References Cited

Curriculum Vitae

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1 Correspondences between Onshas and Saints

vii

Introduction

This is a audy of the historical constmction of social and political groups in Cuba.

This project seeks to answer the question of how the regional economic. social and

political differences between groups durhg Cuba's history affected race relations, and

brought about Cuba's independence from Spain as well as the 1959 Cuban Revolution. Ir

also looks at how Santeria, an Afncan-Cuban religious practice, was affected by the

construction of those political and social groups from the arriva1 of Columbus up to the

1959 Cuban Revolution. Thus, the project explores the development of Santeria in

different reçions in Cuba and points up the different ways in which that development was

related to the regionally specific political, economic, and social contexts in which the

practitioners of Santeria were living. In order to understand this, an analysis of the

historical processes involved in the onçoing transformations in the religion of Santena

over time in Cuba had to be thoroughly explored. These transformations, 1 found. were

rooted in the histoncai formation of different social çroups. This exploration, then. ties

together an analysis of the historical formation of certain religious practices and beliefs in

Cuba with an analysis of the historical formation of social groups in Cuba.

The thesis begins with an examination of the changing practices of Santeria over

time, tracing the religion's origins in Africa and its transformation in Cuba in an

environment of slavery, repression and racism. This exercise has made me question

certain assumptions underiying the concept of syncretism that sugsest a type of

homogenizing process that culminates in an impure or cormpted 'synthesis'. 1 do not see

Santeria as an impure aate boni from the blending of Spanish Catholicism and the Afncan

Yoruba onsha religion. Rather, I see Santeria as an ongoing syncretic process. Its

practitioners, with histones of repression and oppression, have over time cleveriy and

effectively incorporated elements of other religions into their religion enabhg thein to

adhere simultaneously to multiple beliefs and practices. The process of change is very

gradua1 with no sudden ruptures between the old forms and the new fonns during the

transformations. Some practitioners may select and accept a new element (that could

potentially transform the religion) while others do not; as time goes by. the new form is

either incorporated by most of Sanreria's practitioners or it is not (Brandon 1993: 160).

The second strand of analysis deals with the historical formation of the various

social groups in post-Columbian Cuba. Usinç historical demoçraphics, and the concepts

of class formation and racial ideology as analytical tools, this strand of analysis focuses on

the imponance of Afncan-Cubans as participants in political and social changes that took

place in Cuba between 1492 and 1959. Furthermore, the analysis brings into relief the

processes involved in the creation of various social groups in Cuba by examining liow

these groups mobilized cultural materials in different ways that were related to regionally

specific political, economic and social contexts. Throughout the text the two strands of

analysis are employed separately as well as being periodically interwoven toçether.

Although I spent about two rnonths in Cuba in the summer of 1997 conducting

interviews with Santeria practitioners and gathering archiva1 data, 1 have, for the most

part, used secondary sources for my research.' My time in Cuba, however, allowed m e to

focus on cenain aspects of the religion that 1 might have overlooked otherwise. Indeed. it

infomed my analysis of the kinds of historical processes 1 would have to explore in this

thesis.

The remainder of this introduction includes a brkf critique of George Brandon's

"histotical ethnography" of Santeria (one of my sources), which is followed by a sketch of

Antonio Gramsci's notion of hegemony as analyzed by Lears ( 1985). Roseberry ( 1 994)

and Clark (1998) which 1 find usehl as a theoretical tool. Chapter 1 esamines the roots of

the religion of Santeria taking into account Yoruba reliçious practices in Africa as well as

dealing with the creation of social groups in Cuba during the time of the atteiiipted

Spanish cultural conquest. Chapter 2 explores the historical matrix of social and cultural

behaviour from which changes occurred in the Afncan Yomba religion leading into

another religion -- Santena. This chapter, while focusinç on the nineteenth and early

twentieth centuries, is also concerned with how this cultural change was linked with

social, economic, and demographic changes that occurred not only in Cuba. but also

beyond its shores. Chapter 3 explores the social and cultural siçnificance of Santeria in

twentieth century Cuba.

For much of the body of this work 1 have relied on George Brandon's Smtreric~

from Africa to /he Nov World : Thc Dcad SeIl Memot-ies (1993) which I found to be an

invaluable source for out lin in^ the foundations of Santeria in Africa as well as discussing

the interactions of European and African religion in Cuba's history. Brandon also presents

a persuasive and comprehensive analysis of Spain's effons to promote a culture conquest

of the New World. What is lacking in Brandon's argument, however, is a clear definition

of hegemony. He, at times, conflates the terms 'culture conquest' and 'hegernony'

without clearly defining what he means by 'hegemony' and variations of the term, such as

4

' hegemonic elite' and 'heçemonic strateçies'. Therefore, 1 think it is important, before 1

continue with the social historical analysis of the birth of Santeria in Cuba to my

reading of heçemony. This will aid in understandin~ Santeria's development in Cuba as

well as cenain social aspects of the religion.

Antonio Gramsci's notion of hegemony cornes into relief in analyses of social

relations which are based on unequal access to wealth and power: the social relations

between dominant and subordinate groups. There are however. V ~ ~ O U S interpreiations of

Gramsci's concept of heçernony. One specific Gramscian interpretarion of heyemony and

political action, for example, contends that: 1) heçemony creates a unified moral order in

which one panicular way of life or concept of reality is diffused throughout society and is

inçrained in al[ aspects of civil society, including schools, churches, trade unions and so

on; 2) the heçemony in civil society provides much of the support for the state as well as

an ideology which advocates to the lower groups consent to mle by political autliority; 3 )

the concept of a unified moral order, while serving the interests of the dominant groups, is

adopted by the subordinate groups, allowing the dominant groups to rule through consent

rather than coercion; 4) political action by the masses is not determined by rational

assessments of costs and benetits but by assumptions of how a society should be and is

run, assumptions that. for the most pan, are set by the mling classes' "hiçhly developed

agencies of political socialization"; 5 ) a critical consciousness which would unite workers

into political action exists within the lower groups, but lies latent; and, 6) this critical

consciousness can be made manifest in alternative foms of "'counter hegeniony'. and it is

the social role of the intellectuals to develop and propasate it, in an activity that Gramsci

a

refers to as the 'war of position' on the cultural front" (Laitin 1986: 105).

This particular model of hegemony has been widely criticized for various reasons

(see Laitin 1986). Following T. J. Jackson Lears (1985: 567493). William Roseberry

(1994: 355-366) and Kim Clark (1 998: 5-7), 1 see Gramsci's notion of hegemony as

meaning more than just how ruling groups procure and preserve consensual support for

their dominance from subaltern groups by their creation and dissemination ofa

cornmonsense world view that is favourable to their interests. There are sonie important

nuances of Gramsci's conception of hegernony that need to be outlined. First. in societies

characterized by unequal access to wealth and power, consent and coercion probably

always exist topther, even though one prevails over the other. The ruling classes seek to

obtain consent to mle from the subordinate groups by creating moral authority for their

rule, yet the threat of force implicitly bolsters the ruling classes' claims to that moral

authonty (although it is more cost efficient for the mling classes to not use force).

Second, both the dominant classes and subordinate groups are comprised of people and

groups of people who do not necessarily al1 hold equal notions of what is comrnonsense in

the culture; therefore, there exist in both the ruling classes and subordinate groups

alternative readinçs. As a result, althouçh they remain encompassed by the dominant

culture, alternative cultural forms, that may or may not be directly oppositional to the

interests of the dominant groups. are able to thrive within the economic, political and

social fkamework of the state. Third, ideologkal consensus is never static, but is dynamic

and contentious, with various subaltern groups and institutions constantly pressing claims.

Fourth, in order for subordinate çroups to draw me an in^ fiom a conception of reality that

6

is not based primarily on their own experience, their experiences and traditions are

panially incorporated into the heçernonic process. Consequently. even though the

interests of the dominant group are served by this incorporation, the subordinate groups

are imbued with a "contradictory consciousness": subordinate individuals are socialized to

varying deçrees, some more than others, and the consent to rule is never completely given

over to the mling classes. Finally, subordinate populations rarely passively acquiesce to

their position, but continually struggle to irnprove their living conditions within the

framework of the existinç social and political structures of the state.

By using the above notion of hegemony as an analytical tool for a sociallhistoncal

exploration of the development of Santeria in Cuba, we are able see that the notion of

culture conquest is more complex than merely denoting the domination of the ruling

classes over the subordinate classes. We are able to understand that the dominant çroups

in Cuba, comprised of the Catholic Church. the metropolitan and colonial govemments,

and the suçar planters, had their own panicular notions about how Cuba should be

govemed. Aiso, we can see how these çroups together politically as the 'state' are "a

balance between political society and civil society, ... the hegemony of one social group

over the entire nation, exercised through so-called pnvate oganizations like the Churcli.

trade unions, or schools" (Gramsci in Lears 1985: 570). The state in Cuba. then* was a

cornplex political entity of individuals and institutions which did not always operate simply

as a tool for plantation owners and Cuban elite çroups. It was a continually changing

array of interactinç semi-autonomous çroups who possessed a myriad of attitudes and

practices. With this in mind, we are not only better able to examine the power relations of

the ruling classes in Cuba, but we are also able to see how the power relations of the

subordinate groups, such as poor white subsistence €amers, slaves, free blacks, and so on.

played out against each other. and how these groups couid either be complicit wiili or

oppositional to the dominant classes.

Notes

1 . Throughout this thesis 1 very sparinçly use quotations from interviews or names of the people who helped me with my research in Cuba. Al1 the people with whom 1 talked in Cuba gave me verbal permission to use their names or any conversations that we had in this work. 1 asked everyone whorn 1 interviewed to sign the standard permission release foms that 1 presented before our interviews began; however, none of them wanted to be bothered with signing the form.

Chapter 1 - Historical Transformations of Santeria from Africa to Cuba

Introduction - Ideas and Practices in Motion

The transference and transplantation of theories and ideas neçotiated by people

through time and over space is never unimpeded and generally results in an alteration of

those ideas. Edward Said (1990: 305-306) lists four stages that are prevalent and

recurrent to the way in which theories or ideas, with which people engage, travel in time

and from location to location. According to Said, a theory or idea first begins at a place

of origin in which it is developed by an aggegate of people who incorporate it into a

particular and somewhat established discourse. Second, people and tlieir descendants.

imbued with the ideas in their discourse, travel from the point of oriçin to anotber point in

time and space. In doing so, their ideas and theories are shaped by changing social

contexts as the people and their descendants traverse to the new location. Third. the

transplanted people are confronted with a new set of conditions which cal1 for a

reevaluation of their ideas (resulting in resistance to and/or acceptance of novel elements.

or leavinç behind elements of the original ideas). And, founh, the ideas of people. which

have now been fully or partially reconciled, are transfonned by the new uses and contexts

to which people apply them.

In this chapter 1 discuss the histories of some of the practitioners of the antecedent

religions who contnbuted to the formation of the Afiican-Cuban religion of Santena. The

next section of this chapter, entitled 'Afiica', provides a general overview of the social and

reiigious context of the Yoruba Orisha-based religion, o f f e ~ g an indication of the on@

of Cuban Santeria and outlining the first of Said's stages of travelinç theories as they

1 O

relate to the subject at hand. The following section, 'Cuba'. deals with the second and

third stages: the ideas and memories of the Onsha religion carried by the Yoruba slaves

from Afiica to Cuba and how those people were confronted by the various and ever

changinp conditions which existed over time in Cuba. I also present a brief overview of

Spanish Catholicism and its imposition in the New Worid. Said's fourth stage, as applied

to the birth of Santeria in Cuba, is approached in chapters two and tliree and illustrates

how Santeria followers utilized their conceptualizations of Santeria to negotiate their lives

within varying regional social, economic and political realities both before and durinç the

Cuban revolution. In other words, 1 look at the various matrices of social and cultural

behaviours in which Santeria was practiced.

Africa

Cuban Santeria derives from the Orisha-based religion that was primarily practiced

by the Yoruba people of the West Afncan Guinea Coast. in what is now Nigeria and

Benin. The Yoruba people are not one single cohesive group of people. but rather a

configuration of more than fifiy politically diverse subgroups who share common elements

in their history, laquage, dress, rnythology and ritual symbolism (Matibag 1996: 5 1).

There is not one definitive explanation of exactly how or when Yoruba cultural 'traditions'

amved in West Afnca, but archaeological evidence nronçly suçgests that an aggregate of

people who have corne to be known as the Yoruba have been living there for at least one

thousand years (Murphy 1988: 7). During the years in which the Atlantic slave trade

intensified, particularly between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, many of these

people were forcibly brought to the shores of various locations in the New World, such as

1 1

Cuba, Brazil, Haiti, Trinidad and Puerto Rico, to work as slaves. Yoruba slaves Iikely

went to Cuba and other pans of the New World as early as the sixteenth century

(Gonzalez-Kirby l985:39). However, there was a great increase in the number of Yoruba

slaves imported to the Americas near the end of the eighteenth century and the beginniny

of the nineteenth centuries. From 1850 untiI 1 870 there was a dramatic increase in the

number of Yoruba slaves entennç Cuba. Of al1 the African ethnic groups imponed to

Cuba during that period, the Yoniba made up one-third (Brandon 1993 : 58).

Along with their bodies, which were brouçht over for sale into lives of misery, the

Yoruba people brought elements of their Orisha religion. In order to arrive a< an

understanding of how some elements of the Orisha religion of the Soruba slaves formrd

the foundation for the development of Santena in Cuba, it is necessary to become

familiar with a bnef historical overview of the social and cosmological world view of the

Yoruba people in Mica as it likely existed durinç, and possibly a short time prior to, the

Atlantic slave trade.

By the first millennium AD, well before the advent of European colonkation. the

process of urbanization had suficiently developed among the predominantly agrarian

Yoruba that politically autonomous, yet loosely unified, city-states and kingdoms of

varying size and complexity began to form (Cardenas Sanchez 1997: 134). In fact, the

Yoruba at that time were "the most urban of al1 Afncan people" (Bascom 1969: 3). By

the early seventeenth century the Yoruba controlled vast trade routes throughout the

Western Sudan. They were involved in a cornplex web of political interactions, slave

tradins, and mutual cultural influence which linked al1 the Yoruba city-states, as well as

12

connecting them to the neighbouring Borgu, Nupe, Benin and Dahomey (Murphy 1968:

105; Brandon 1993: 9 .2 1).

Not oniy were the exchanpe of materials and ideas major contributing factors in

the Yoruba becominç master brass and iron smiths, weavers, and some of the best

producen of carvings in the world, it also enabled them to remain open to a variety of

different cultural and religious view points. George Brandon points out that to appreciate

Yoruba religion "means not to look at it as a body of beliefs, doctrines, rituals but ratlier

as the onçoinç manifestation of a basic attitude toward life which is expressed in a variety

of ways and a variety of contexts" (1993: 11). The old religion of the Yoruba was

constructed by means of onçoing processes; observations, imaginations, reflections, and

ideas of various individuals and groups of people were built up over the millennia througli

continuing processes of accumulating, borrowing, modiQing, renewinç. diçcarding, and

transmitting to subsequent çenerations. The reliçion permeated various Yoruba groups in

an holistic fashion rather than existing as a separate institution within a matrix of otlier

social institutions. Thus, the old religion was expressed in Yomba mythology. proverbs.

rites, symbols, economics, political and interpersonal relations, and relations with the

natural world. Religion played an especially important role in political and social life of

the Yoruba. Moreover. the religion and the social and political life of the Yoruba

exhibited a great deal of flux. The practitioners of the religion were continually open to

change that could be accommodated by the religion without distorting its underlying

architecture (Brandon 1993 : 18). Joseph Murphy succinctly States that because the

Yomba "were in constant contact with a wide variety of cultures and religions ... they were

13

no strangers to pluralism" (1988: 105). As a result, various beiiefs and ritual practices

difised out of the Yoniba temtones and other reliçious elements were inteçrated into

Yoruba religion.

One of the principal Yoruba urban centres was the holy city of Ile Ife. which, dong

with the kingdom of Oyo, reached its phme political imponance in the seventeenth and

eighteenth centuries. The city of Ile Ife had been the link which tied topther the three

major kingdoms of Benin, Dahomey, and the Yoruba city-states. Successions of k i n g of-

these three reaims mutually accepted the daim made in the Yoniba origin iiiyth tliat they

were a11 descendants of the same great ancestor. All traced their origins to Odua

(Odduwa), who began his work creatinç the eanh and the Yoruba people at the city of Ile

Ife (Brandon 1993: 9; Bascom 1944: 2 1-22). Therefore, in spite of the political

differences among them, people from these three kingdoms affirmed the notion of kinship

ties with one another. Like quarreling brothers, Benin, Dahomey, and the Yoruba city-

States existed within a dynamic and continuously fluctuatinç field of cultural. social and

political forces. For exampie, one kingdom's expansion of trade in long-distance goods

miçht also result in intensified warfare against its neighbours in order to extend its land

base, or the formation of rival power centres outside a certain city-state might Iead to the

secession of aligned kin groups thus reducing the size of the kinçdom (Brandon 1993: 20).

The shifting fields of power among the Afncan kingdoms of the Bight of Benin

responded to interna1 as well as extemal tensions. Aimost always tliey resulted in warfare

and slave capture. A great number of the slaves ended up being traded to Atlantic slave

traders. Durin~ the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Benin became a major source of

14

slaves afier its amies had expanded and ençulfed the eastern territories of the Yoruba and

the western temtories of the Ibo. However, by the end of the seventeenth century. the

economic benefits of the Atlantic slave trade for Benin were in decline because the

European slavers shifted their focus further West. But the Benin kingdom suffered a series

of other problems as well. External tensions which weakened the empire included: the rise

of Oyo; an increasing British presence that pushed deeper into the interior; the Niyerian

civil wars; and intemal disputes within the royal house of Benin. For the next two

centuries Benin's power and involvement in the slave trade dwindled, and by 1597 Benin

was conquered by Britain (Brandon 1993: 24-16).

Although Yoruba slaves were brought to Cuba and other places before the

eighteenth century, it was not until the Owu-Eçba wars of 1820-1 827 and the

disinteçration of Oyo that they were exponed to the New World in massive proportions.

During these wars European firearms were emensively used, and, for the first tirne. whole

towns were rared and their entire populations were taken captive. later to be sold to

Spanish, Ponuguese, or renegade British slavers. Britain had abolished slavery in 1 SOS.

and at this time, were patrolling the Guinea Coast as an international police force trying to

stem the Atlantic slave trade. This, along with their attempts to make treaties with African

kinçs may have been ostensible acts for the justification of colonization of Afncan

territones. The Owu-Egba wars also ignited a chah of civil wars that resulted in a century

of fratricide (Brandon 1993 : 28; Cunin 1967: 3 18-320).

The discussion thus far has focused on an overview of the historical formation of

social and political goups in West Mica before and during the Atlantic slave trade.

15

Dynamic and continuously fluctuatinç powerfil social groups are an indication of the

presence of challenges to hegemonic elite groups. Coalitions of powerfbl social groups

assen their legitimacy to d e through appeals to cultural values (religion beinç an integral

pan of those cultural values) or what is taken to be cornmonsense, and social upheavals

occur when revolutionary groups counter the hegemonic conceptions of cornmonsense

with alternate cultural conceptions. It is interesting that al1 three competing groups niade

the same appeal to one particular cultural value -- the common ancestry brised in the ciry

of Ile Ife.

Orgnnization or Worship niid Worldview o f the Yoruba

There are two important points to consider when discussing Yoruba religion. The

first is that the religion has chançed and continues to change. The second point is that

throughout its history Yoruba religion has exhibited important regional differences. As a

result, the very use of the term "Yoruba religion" presents a problem because it conveys

the false impression of the religion being unified geographically and uniform throughout

time. The followinç outline of Yoruba worship and worldview is a plausible

characterization that is probably most befitting to the period during the Atlantic slave

trade. The sources that 1 have used for this discussion, for the most pan, present a

generalized abstraction of 'cYomba religion" that is applicable across the various regions

of the Yorubaland of West ~fnca . '

Amonç the Yoruba, the family, which included the dead, the living, and the

unbom, was considered the smallea unit within the nate. Patrilineal lineage systems as

well as alrnost al1 religious and social life were hierarchically anançed. At the bottom of

1 u

the hierarchy, the househoid or compound priest presided over the household (which

usually contained extended family members). At the town or village level were temple

priesthoods, each of which had its own interna1 ranking. The temple priests were

responsible to the priests of the royal cult at the national level. The state was reçarded as a

larger corporate family goup with the king beinç syrnbolized as father to his children

subjects (Brandon 1993 : 12).

At the centre of Yoruba worship, and concomitant with lineage hierarchy. was

ancestor veneration and the view that the community of the present must always look to

the past for moral guidance (Murphy 1988: 8). Called ara o r w (people of heaven), the

ancestors symbolized their presence among the living Yoruba in many ways. At the

village level, one of the more dramatic methods was their appearance during the season of

the yam harvest. A secret society of male masked dancen called Egtrttgt~tt presented

themselves at various locations bedecked in costumes of swatches of briçhtly coloured

cloth whirling around thern. The maskers impersonated the immediate ancestors of their

own particular familial community.

Ancestor veneration also existed at the state level, in which al1 the commtinities of

a particular kinçdorn worshiped the cult of royal ancestors as well as their own immediate

ancestors. At the state level al1 the members of any family shared descent from divinities.

who were their ancestors imbued with nshe (power) (Bastide 1960: 59: Bolivar 1990:

22). These divinities were, and are, called or~shnî. Each kingdom was obligated ro

perfom cenain duties in veneration of the souIs of the ancestral dead. or orishas.

Nonpefiormance of these duties would offend the onshas and disaaer would be broujht

17

on the whole kingdom (Brandon 1993: 1 O). Some of the orishas had an exclusive local

following while others were worshiped throuçhout the Yomba territories and in10 areas of

Benin and Dahomey. Since, as mentioned previously, Yoruba myth denotes the holy city

of Ile Ife as binh place of al1 creation including the orishas. the residents of that city

worshipped most of the orishas. The hierarchical arrangement of lineage and worship lias

led some theorists to view Yoruba worship as a plurality. For exarnple. Roger Bastide

(1960: 61) points out that the Yoruba religion was dualistic, being sirnultaneously a

lineage religion and a community religion.

The Yomba cosmology and pantheon of superhuman beings were also

hierarchically arranged. As mentioned beforehand. the Yoruba deities, orishas. were eacli

linked to a certain village or region, with the exception of the primary centres such as Ile

Ife, to whicli many orishas were linked. For instance. Shaiigo, or Choiqp. was worshiped

in Oyo, Yeniaya in Egba, Ogim in Ekit and Orido, and Oshwi in Ijosa and Ijebu (Bolivar

1990: 22). There was a çreat deal of variation concerning the rnythology and ritual

practices that were associated with specific regions (this is yet anotlier example of the

flexible nature of the orkha religion). The orishas were believed to rule over every force

of nature and every aspect of human life, yet were always approachable and could be

relied upon to corne to the aid of their descendant followers. The Yomba divided the

onshas into two camps: the dark (or 'hot') orishas such as Chango. the orisha wlio

controls fire, thunder and lightning, and the white (or 'cool') orishas such as Oshun, the

onsha who symbolized river waters and was the patron of love and marnage (Gonzalez-

Wippler 1989: 4). Onshas, however, were never at the top of the Yoruba cosmological

1 a

hierarchy. They acted as emissanes through which Olodurnare, the one Yoruba supreme

god, interacted with the world and humans. Unlike the orishas. Olodumare was remote to

humans, had no human attnbutes, and had neither pnesthood nor temples (Brandon 1993:

14; Matibag 1996: 5 1; Goiizalez-Wippler 1989: 24).

It is important to note that each of the temples and shrines dedicated to any one of

a large nurnber of onshas was not necessaril y a permanent structure. The objects wliich

functioned as altar images were considered more imponant than the temple or slirine in

which they were placed. These emblems and ntual paraphernalia were common objects.

such as tree lirnbs, stones, pieces of iron. COW+ shells, and pots whicli had been

empowered through ritual treatment, and, when placed within a certain contextual

collection, became religious icons and representations of certain onshas. Tlie Yoruba

reçarded things such as stones, pieces of iron, clouds, nven, as well as plants and aninials.

as being aiive and havinç will, power and intentions, just like humrns. Shrines and temples

could be constructed anywhere as long as the collection of empowered objects could be

brought together to represent a panicular orisha (Brandon 1993: 17, 16).

The orishas were considered the receptacles of oshr. Ashe, for Yoruba

worshippers, was the al1 encompassing spiritual enerSy which made up al1 life and al1

things material in the universe. Ashe was the divine power with which Olodumare created

the universe. Every superhuman power (the ancestors, the onshas, the forces of nature.

and the supreme being, Olodumare) was a manifestation of ashe (Brandon 19% : 16).

Humans were able to obtain ashe through ntuals, divination, spells, possession, and

invocations by propitiating the onshas with ebbo (offenngs andfor sacrifices). Also

19

required for the worship of the orisha and the acquisition of ashe was for family inembers

to establish a base (odrr): a pot or suppon object which acted as receptacle for tlie force or

ashe of the onsha (Bolivar 1990: 12). Humans possessed objects and ritual secrets which

gave them an element of control over their orisha ancestors in obtaining ashe. The objects

which represented the orishas in the temples also fùnctioned as material support for the

orisha's ashe, and the ritual incantations which empowered the objects became pan of its

secret (Brandon 1993 : 1 7; Gonzalez-Wippler 1 989: 5).

Communication with the orishas was achieved throuçh ceremonies involving sons,

dance. drum rhythms, and ultimately spirit trance possession which linked the orisha and

its descendants. With the advent of possession the orisha was able to conimunicate to tlie

assembly in a physical, visible, human fonn. The dances, sonçs and drum rliythms were al1

well rehearsed and choreographed and instantly recoçnizable to any particular

congregat ion as reenactments of mythical themes. Dance movement S. adrenaline. and

exhaustion might have triggered a trance-like state of consciousness to facilitate sacred

spirit possession. In this trance state the onsha 'mounted' the head of tlie possessed

(hence, the metaphors of horse [wonhipper] and rider [orisha] are ofien used to describe

the event of possession). During the state o f possession the channels of ashe were

considered opened and the dancers then merged with the orisha and the divine rhythm

(Brandon 1993: 17; Lefever 1996: 322; Murphy 1988: 15 1).

According to most Yoniba, humans were not only capable of manipulating and

communing with ashe throuçh the orishas. they also had a responsibility to do so, because

through its manipulation, ashe could create and sustain the balance and harmony tliat

10

existed in the universe. Humans depended on the orishas and their ancestors to ensure

that harmony existed in the immediate environment on which they depended for

subsistence. as well as to ensure that harmony existed within their communities.

Communication of ashe through ritual and divination also allowed the Yoruba to deal witli

more prosaic everyday problems of individual imbalance, invoivinç money, work,

ftiendship, and love. While communing with ashe, they had access to the accumulated

knowledge of the superhuman deities as well as their dead ancestors.

Concomitant wirh the Yoruba concept of ashe was the Yoruba concept of ebbo.

The Yoruba honoured the orishas with sacrificial gifts of plants and animals. Thus the

Yoruba concept of ebbo can be viewed as a divine exchange of energy; ashe for ashe. lik

for Iife, the orishas offered wisdom, children, and health of the community and of the

environment, and, in return, human beings restored the orishas with sacrifice and praise.

As human beings relied on the orishas for assistance, the orishas relied on human beings

for subsistence, for without the ashe of sacrifice the orishas would have starved. witliered

and eventually died. Along with the blood of a sacrificial victim (usually an animal such as

a goat or a chicken), ebbo ofTerings could also be honey, fniits. candles, cigars. or the

favourite food of the orisha, to name a few. Thus, at a11 levels of Yoruba social

organization from family to state level, orisha worship was reciprocal. Otishas were given

their due through worship (isii,), prayers/supplication (cbr), and sacrifice (ebho). and the

faithhl were retumed with spiritual protection as well as support in the struggles of daily

Iife (Lawal 1996: 7).

Another important aspect of the Yoruba religion is the ntual of divination. The

2 1

technique of divination which was held in the hiçhest regard by the Yoruba was called Ifa.

Babaiwos (rouçhly translated as "fathers of secrets"). the most respected of al1 the

Yoniba priests, spent ten to fifteen years of intensive training to learn the ways in which

ashe was reflected through Ifa divination. In pragmatic and somewhat simplified terms.

the essential purpose of the divinatory procedure was for the client to obtain, through tlir

babalawo's manipulation of divination paraphernalia, guidance and counsel in dealing witli

any panicular problem, great or small.' Babalawos were generally older males, however.

on rare occasions, female priests, called iyalocha or iboiocho, would conduct divination

sessions. Sessions took place in the open market squares as well as in family compounds

and even royal courts (Brandon 1993 : 17; Cardenas Sanchez 1997: 134; Gonzalez-

Wippler 1989: 5; Murphy 1988: 15-1 8). In fact, before the fa11 of the empire of Oyo in

1840, the Ogboni cult and the cuit of Ifa wielded great political power. Thus. divination

played a primary role in çovemment decision makinç (Brandon 1993 : 2 1 ).

The procedure of Ifa involved the babalawo's reading and interpretation of the

random manipulation of sixteen consecrated palm nuts. The babalawo rapidly drew a w q

the greater portion of nuts he had in his left hand with his right hand leaving only one or

two nuts in his left hand. He did this eiçht times and recorded the results as lines drawn in

sawdust on a carved tray called opoii. The configuration, called an odu, may have looked

like this:

II I

11 1

II 1

I I

This odu above is presently known as Oçbé' Kànran. Each odu was a set of proverbs.

poems and mythical stories which the babalawo had to memorize. These provided dues

for resolution of the client's problem. Not only did the babalawo memonte the numerous

sets of prayers, myths, proverbs, verses, songs and praise names of the orishas that

accompanied each odu, he aiso had to be capable of interpreting the narrative according t o

the way in which it most related to his client's problems (Epeça and Neimark 1995: 94;

Matibaç 1996: 77; Murphy 1988: 17-18), 1 will retum to discuss the divination rituals in

Cuba below.

In the preceding pages 1 have sketched a brief outline of the basic structure of the

orisha religion as it probably existed durinç, and perhaps some time prior to, the Atlantic

slave trade. In addition, 1 have presented a çlimpse of the dynamic and complex history of

the reliçious, political, and social life of the Yoruba and their neighbours in West Mica

during the time in which many of them were forcibly brought to Cuba as slaves. As

mentioned beforehand, the weakening of the Oyo empire was a major contributinç factor

for the enslavement of hundreds of thousands of Yoruba who arrived in Cuba as a restilt

of the Atlantic slave trade.) This culminated in the vassal Yoruba States prociaiming their

independence and making war against one another. It also left Oyo open to attack from

the Fon kingdom of Dahomey to the West and the Fulani Islamic jihad from the nonh. At

times durinç these wan, entire villages were burned to the ground and their inhabitants

were sold into slavery. These events led to the Owu-Egba wan (ca. 1820). the first and

most devastating of a series of civil wars throuçhout Nigeria that aretched throuçh the

better part of the nineteenth centuiy (Brandon 1993 : 27; Murphy 1986: 2 1 ).

The slave trade was not an event which only took place within Africa. It was

affected by the intersection of local and global processes emanatinç from inside and

outside Africa which conveqed at the local level. Other important factors contributed to

the exportation of thousands of Yoruba people to Cuba which brouçht about the eventual

birth of an incipient fom of Santeria. The most imponant of these was the fact that the

changing world market for sugar greatly increased the demand for slaves to work tlie

sugar mills of their Spanish owners. For example, when Haiti was excluded from the

sugar market following the Haitian revolution at the tum of the nineteenth centur).. Cuba

shifted production from minor cattle ranching and tobacco farming to become the Ieading

s u p r exporter of the New World. This change in production created a demand for a

massive labour force which was filled throuçh tlie importation of many tiiousands of

African slaves to Cuban plantations (Ramos 1996: 5 1).

Cuba

Slavery in the Americas between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries set up the

conditions for culture contact between fùndamentally distinct societies. In Cuba.

Amerindian, Afncan and European peoples were brought together under an economic

çystem that was dominated and controlled by Europeans. lnitially this contact. whicli first

took place in the few weeks followinç 2; October 1491 when Columbus reached Cuba.

nenous was between the Spanish cottquistadorrs and the Cuban Indian groups. The indi,

people of Cuba were primarily comprised of two major cultural goups: the Ciboney, tlie

Arawak (Sub-Taino) (Brandon 1993: 37). Very little is known about a third group. the

24

Gaunajabeyes, also referred to as the Mayari, who were the earliesr inhabitants of Cuba

(Thomas 1971: 15 16). At vanous times throughout the sixteenth century these

indigenous groups met with the conquistadores who followed Columbus' path to the New

World (Diego Velkquez and Heman Cortés, for example). For their part. the

conquistadores began to focus on how Cuba and the other isiands couid be exploited for

gold and other resources. Shonly after the initial contact, in 1508. the Spanisli Crown

began a carnpaiçn to colonize Cuba with settlen afier cornpetition for slirinking resources.

including Indian labour, occurred in neiçhbouring Espafiola (what is now Haiti and the

Dominican Republic). Here, as was done earlier in Espaiiola, the conquistadores

appropnated Indian villos (communities) and Indian labour in the forni of ci~cr~/iri~.,dc~s.

The cr~coniieiidn system granted a colonist the riçht to collect tribute. usually in the forni

of labour, from a specified group of Indians in return for providinç the Indian families witli

protection as well as Christian teachinçs (Klein 1967: 10). However. many

circonrcr~d'ros, some of whom were absentee owners who delegated overseers to look

afier their holdings, paid no attention to their moral, legal, and religious obligations and

only exploited the Indians for their labour and their land (Suchlicki I W O : 19-20).

Althouçh some Indians tried to orçanize resistance against the Spaniards. they

were no match for the Spanish weaponry, cruelty, and epidemic diseases. They were easy

prey due to their weakened condition brouçht on by overwork. malnutrition and the fact

that they were not immune to Old World diseases (Pérez 1988: 29). The indigenous

population of Cuba was estimated to be between 60,000 and 112,000 on the eve of the

conquest; by 1550 there were fewer than 3,000 Indians in Cuba (Simons 1 996: 65-95).

3

Du@ that same year the Spanish freed the remaining Indian slaves. who eventually

resided in autonomous communities outside of Cuban towns. Later. in t h e eighteenth and

nineteenth centuries, these remaining lndians became assimilated to a version of Spanish

culture, through intermamage and adoptinç their Spanish languaçe (Brandon 1993: 40).

It is dificult to determine the validity of native population statistics in Cuba from the

eiçhteenth century onward because Cuban census takers of 1770. for various reasons,

oficially classified Indians and n~csti:os, the offspnng of Spanish men and lndian woinen.

as being white (Martinez-Alier 1974: 8 1 ; Thomas 1971 : 2 1, 15 11).

Between the time of Columbus' f h t visit to Cuba and four hundred years lience.

Cuba existed as a slave society. Amerindian, Jewish. Moonsh. Spanish whites and black

slaves first worked for the conquistadors looking for çold. Later, black slaves froin Africn

worked on farms and in the urban centres for Spanish colonizers. Because of the

inaccuracy of transponation records of the early simeenth century, it is diEcult to

ascenain exactly when African slaves first arrived in Cuba. It is also difficult to deteniiine

the cultural background ofthe first Afiican slaves. It is known, however. tliat on 3

September 150 1 King Ferdinand of Spain, writing to the governor of Espaiiola. expressed

his wish to supplement the diminishing Indian population of the Caribbean with black

slaves and free blacb, who were Spanish speaking and already convened to Catholicisni

in Spain (Klein 1967: 67; Simons 1996: 105). As a result, permission was granted in

1524 for the importation of 300 of these slaves and tieernen to work in the Jagua gold

mines in Cuba (Convin cited in Gonzilez-Kirby 1985: 40). The Spanish senlers

eventually became dissatisfied with the expensive and difficult to control Spanish-speaking

26

Christianized blacks from Spain, and afier the middle of the sixteenth century only

bozalcs, 'raw' slaves directly from Africa, were shipped to the New World as a labour

force (Brandon 1993 : 40). Scholars studying the African diaspora (Herskovits 1 937;

Knight 1974; O ~ i z 1960) generally agree that some of the bozales sliipped froni Africa to

Cuba were Yoruba from southwestern Niyeria, as well as some Bantu speakers

(Gonzilez-Kirby 1985: 4 1). The African slave population of Cuba in the following years

continued to increase. There were about 500 African slaves on the isiand in 1532, aroiind

1000 by 153 5, and there were an estimated 10,000 by 1606 (Simons 19%: 1 09).

The growth of the slave population coupled with political and econornic changes

shaped Cuba's development. The post-conquest period of Cuba's development was

intersected by two economic 'booms' in Cuba's economy with a lengthy lull between the111

(Brandon 1993: 4). During the first boom, which staned shonly afier the conquest and

lasted about seventy-five years, some farms were worked by Afican slaves and some of

the remaining Indian popuiation. Most of Cuba, however, was settled by artisans,

frontienmen, petty bureaucrats, and small-scale farmers, and the slaves made up a

relatively small portion of the population. Only a few families engaged in large-scale cattle

ranching, but the primary exports in this early period were tobacco and beeswas wiiicli

were lucrative enterprises that required neither vast land holdings or a large labour force.

The Cuban sugar industry did not begin to prosper until the end of tiie sixteenth century

(Simons 1996: 108)

Followinç the first boom, there was a rapid deciine in the economy which lasted

until the second boom in the 1760s. This was prirnanly due to the colonists' and Spanisli

27

Crown's waning interest in Cuba as they refocused their attention on the discovery of

mainland riches in labour and precious metals (Mintz 1964: xv). Additionally. Spain

imposed stringent and oppressive mercantilistic policies in Cuba which forced Cuban

producers to se11 their products at low prices and buy impons at higher prices than could

be obtained from other European nations trading in the Caribbean (Suchlicki 1990: 33-

42). In the lençthy interregnum between the drop in the economy and the second

economic boom in the 1760s. many free Africans and slaves, Amerindians, and wliites

staned farminç in the intenor reçions of Cuba away from the control of peninsular Spaiii

and the urban elites, thus establishing Cuba's first peasantry. These rural inliabitants only

made up one-tenth of the total population of Cuba in a country whose overall population

density was only three people per square mile. Generations of cattle ranchers (sorne as far

back as the sixteenth century) who were çiven grants of land (niu*ccdLls) in circles, sniall

or large fcor~*des or h m s ) , from the Spanish Crown as enticements to settle the interior.

were politically and socially the most important of these. Many other people in the

countryside, however, were squatters who eked out a subsistence living on the segments

of land, called r-ealorgos, between the granted circles of land (Thomas 197 1 : 19-20).

It was dunnç Cuba's early centuries (1492-1790) that the substratum creole culture

began to emerge. According to Brandon (1 993: 41-43), the creole culture was

represented b y a continuousl y redefined socioracial continuum which first emerçed from

the social relations that evolved from a mixed labour force of whites, Africans and

Amerindians (and Iater Haitians, Jamaicans and Chinese). This socioracial continuum.

which was comprised of people bom in Cuba, became the mon populous and widespread

28

of any of the subçroups of people in Cuba (though dominated by the Spanish Church and

state). At first, when the population of Cuba was small, the continuum was comprised of

diverse and atomized groups of individuals from a wide range of ethnic and racial groups,

but eventually it became "a syncretic cultural continuum participated in by most of the

population reçardless of ethnic or racial oriçin" (Brandon 1993: 43).

The creole culture rested between two poles of people not native to Cuba -- the

Spanish-born elites (peninsulares) and the imported African slaves (bozales) (Brandon

1993: 4, 40-43). The continuum resembled a form of gradation based on mutually

defined socioracial classifications, includinç phenotypical differences (sucli as skin coloui.).

ancestry, nativity, slave versus free status, and religion. The closer to the mutually defined

'ideal' Spanish culture one was, the closer that person was linked to sources of economic

and political power (Brandon 1993: 45). This developrnent had lasting effects on the

character of race relations in Cuba and the development of Santeria.

The second economic boom which began around the 1760s lasted rhrough the

nineteenth century. The initial catalyst for this was when Ençland captured then occupied

Havana for a penod ofonly eleven months. During that time trade with Ençland and

North Amenca dramatically increased (Suchlicki 1990: 44). Botli the coffee and sugar

industries at this time saw great expansion, but sugar soon began to eclipse coffee in

importance. The Atlantic slave trade followed on the coat-tails of the sugar industry. In

fact, the economic rewards of producinç sugar on the international market made trading in

Am'can slaves the biççest moneymaker of the time. Sidney Mintz, in Sivcet~~evs oid

Power (1985), an excellent political economy/social history audy of how production and

29

consumption are connected to class, cogently argues that changes in European sugar

consumption patterns between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries were linked to the

developrnent of the plantation economies and, by extension, the slave markets in the

Canbbean. Focusing on sugar consumption by the English, Mintz outlines how su, use

was transformed from being exclusive to the rich prior to 1750 as medicine. spice,

sweetener and preservative, to beinç consumed by both the rich and the working-class

poor from 1850 onward strictly as a sweetener. He daims that suyr changed from a hi$

priced luxury item in 1650 to a cheaply pnced 'necessity' in the 1 850s that fulfilled caloric

needs of the Ençlish working-class poor and positively aflected tlieir energy output and

productivity in the work place (Mintz 1985: 148-149). Although the price for sugar

decreased, the demand for sugar drastically increased. As sugar mills and suçar

plantations became more numerous there was a greater demand for labour to work them.

Almost al1 of the demand for suçar plantation labour in Cuba during this penod was

supplied by African slaves.

From the beginning of the European intrusion into Cuba until 1763 about 60.000

slaves of African descent were imponed; the rate dramatically increased over the next six

decades. Between 1763 and 1790, another 41,000 Afncan slaves were shipped to Cuba.

and between 1791 and 1825, 320,000 were brought to Havana alone (Simons 1996: 1 10).

The great increase in the number of African slaves imported to the island drastically

altered the racial demoçraphic character of Cuba. In the eastem regions of the island the

creole cultural continuum of the previous years remained relatively intact. but in the

western susar zone repions, the racial continuum became much more polarired. In the

30

western reçions, differences between diverse groups were expressed in the form of

political divisions, economic inequality, ethnic stereotypinç, and racial and religious

hostility. It was also in this period (especially between the 1790s and 1860s) that a

massive number of primarily Yoruba slaves were shipped from the Biçht of Benin in

Afnca to Cuba. This period marks the religious and cultural development from which an

incipient form of Santeria (a çeneralized form with regional variations) beçan to appear.

especially in the western urban reçions of Cuba. It was at this time that the Catholic

Church acting in tandem with the Spanish çovernment made concened efforts to control

the religious changes of the African population, even thouçh their policies toward

practitioners of Santena were ofien inconsistent and shifiing (Brandon 1993: 1). To

understand these policies and the impact that they had on the development of Santeria. the

methods through which Catholicism was ernployed by the Church in bot11 Spain and Cuba

as a sustained effort to extend the notion of what it was to be an ideal Spaniard needs to

be fùrther explored.

Usinç George Foster's term, 'a culture conquest' ( 1960: 10). Brandon ( 1993 : 3 S-

40) contends that for three centuries Spain promoted an idealized version of the Spanisli

way of life throughout the Western Hemisphere. According to Brandon, the Crown and

Church of Spain forrnally selected a variety of cultural forms which were considered

desirable for brinçinç about controlled changes of Cuba's coionizers and colonized culture.

consciousnes~, and behaviour. The royal appointee agents for controllinç these changes

were reinforced with military, econornic, and political power. They were European elites

who came from wealthy prestigious Roman Catholic families in Spain, called periirisnlwcs,

5 1

and could prove their lirnpicza de so i~gre ('purity of blood' . Le., with no Jewish or

Moorish blood or either side for four generations back). This group remained marked

apart from the newly rich creoles and wealthy anivals who could not prove their purity of

blood. Although rich creoles (those born on the island) had sorne infi uence on local

economies, they were not allowed to hold royally appointed offices and none of them Iiad

any real political power. The peninsular elites çoverned Cuba's trade and commerce. tlie

emiçration and treatment of slaves. land tenure, the Pace of urbanization. and the

introduction of what was considered the ideal Catholic doctrine and rite.

Folk Ca tliolicism in Spain

The Catholic doctrine initially imponed to Cuba had previously gone tlirough

changes in Spain during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. These clian, cles were

brouçht about by the S panish missionary movement as a reaction againsr Protestantism.

The resultant practice was a compromise between oficial ecclesiastical Catliolicism, or tlie

basic cult manifestation. and folk interpretations which placed more emphasis on a cult of

penonaçes, that is, specialized cuits of Jesus Christ, the Virçin Mary, and tlie saints.

Saints, the central focus of the folk religion, were venerated in both the church and at

altars in the home. Saints were also propitiated with offerinçs of th. silver, and wax

sculptures of various body pans. Folk understandings of sainthood made Catholicism a

more animated, emotional, ntualistic, and icon-centred form of devotion than wliat had

been the previous official doctrine (Brandon 1993: 45-48).

Although the priests, bishops, and cardinals of the officia1 Church believed the

folk interpretations to be misçuided, they became increasingly more tolerant of them, in

32

great pan, because they could not control them. These leaders of the Church would have

preferred the purified Catholic dogrna to have been practiced in Cuba and the New World

rather than Folk Catholicism, but they leamed that they could not have one without tlie

other. One of the reasons for this. accordinç to Brandon ( 1993: 46), was that popular

folk religion was a signiticant "part of the experience and consciousness from the past of

the black and white settiers", and it might pose a danger to the Spanish Catholic

hegemonic project in the New World if tlie settlers began to worsliip outside the churches.

away from view (Brandon 1993 : 45-48). Official Catholicism. however. was still held as

ideal by the state and the union of the state with Roman Catholicisrn. even while the folk

religion was more widespread.

The dominance of oficial Catholicism (pan of the purposehl çuided efforts of

metropolitan Spain to subject the colonial population of Cuba to the ideal Spanish

culture), in a relatively short period of time, successfully permeated the urban centres of

the island. Support for this came from the colonial and metropolitan govemments who

exened continuous pressure on the population until the 1959 Cuban Revolution. Cuba's

elite actively, selectively, and by example, not only defined the moral basis of society. but

it also legalized and sanctified the most basic of human relationships. In prerevolutionary

Cuba, creole religious culture became hiçhly differentiated, yet most of the groups were

linked by the heçemony of official Catholicism. These various çroups assimilated to the

hegemonic culture at different rates and in dif5erent ways. Eventually Church Catholics.

Folk Catholics, and most people who practiced Afncan Cuban religions considered

themselves Catholics, even thouçh the term 'Catholic' had variable meanings (Brandon

1993: 167).

Summrry and Conclusions

This chapter examined the historical formation of social çroups of practitioners of

the antecedent religions of Santeria. 1 first examined the shifiinç fields of power ainong

the African kingdoms of the Bight of Benin and concluded that transformations in the

religion probably followed dong the same Iines as the social and political uplieavals that

were occurring before and during the Atlantic slave trade in West Africa. A generalized

overview of the Yoruba orisha-based religion was presented next with special emphasis

placed on the variability of Yoruba cultural practices and the malleable nature of the

Yoruba religion. I then traced the historical formations of social çroups in Cuba from the

point of Columbus' intrusion ont0 the island up to the early nineteenth century.

The most salient point to draw from the history of Santeria's roots in Africa is that

the extensive interaction between the various States resulted in the Yoruba society

evoivinç in a context in which it was always open to a great deal of change. The West

Afncan heçemonic religious 'tradition' which embraced al1 aspects of life (the social.

political and economic) was a manifestation of this contact. Also important to note about

the religious and social life of the Yoruba is that there was never any one single 'ethnicity'

or monolithic Yoruba religion. There was, however, a series of generalized categories of

meanings which existed as semantic bridges across vanous Yomba çroups (for example,

the various religious paraphemalia and ritual practices that 1 have listed above) to çive

'Yoruba' religion a single 'traditional' appearance. As a result, there was a great deal of

diversity in West Afnca

34

Various influences have reshaped the Yoruba variations of relision in Cuba. The

major influences were the correspondences between African deities and Catholic saints

and influences derived from Espiritismo (see chapter 2). However, the cosmolog and

ritual system of Santena has retained fidelity to some Yoruba practices. These include:

narnes and personalities of some Mrican deities; some elements of the divination

procedures; ceremonial spirit possession and trance; some of the music and musical

instniments; Yoruba languaçe used in some rituals; beliefs in ancestor veneration and

reincarnation; some of the sacrificial practices; some ideas of herbal medicine and I~ealiiig

rituals; and the use of dance as a vehicle of wonhip (Brandon 1990: 12 1 ). Fron~ here we

can move on to discuss how the historical circumstances of the institution of slavery in

Cuba influenced the demographic distribution of blacks, fiee blacks. and whites. and as a

byproduct of this, contributed to the development of Santena.

Notes

1.1 have cross referenced the sources that 1 have used (Bastide 1960; Brandon 1993; Bolivar 1990; Gonzalez-Wippler 1989; Murphy 1988) for my discussion of the Yoruba religion in Afnca and I have found that there is a general overall agreement on the descriptions of Yoruba worship d u h g the slave trade. For the most part, these accounts are consistent with interviews and narratives of former slaves of the nineteenth century (see Curtin 1969), although some of the terminology is not congruent. For example. Osifekunde's 1841 account of the Yoruba religion that he practiced as a child and young adult before his being sold into slavery in 182 1 is in general agreement with most of that presented here in this thesis. Osifebnde, however, never uses the terin 'babalawo'. but instead, uses the name 'aluse ' when referring to the Yoruba priest.

2. Divination procedures of any of the orisha-based religions are extremely cornplex. Foi the sake of clarity and brevity I am outlining an overgeneralized and oversimplified method of divination. For the first Ençlish translation of the sacred texts of Ifa see Thr. Sacred Ifo OI'OC/B (Epeça and Neimark, 1995). 1 will retum to discuss Santeria divination in another section of the thesis.

3. There are differing views of the political confl icts that resulted in the collapse of the Oyo kingdom. Murphy (198821) attributes the collapse to the weakness of the Alafin of Oyo, Awole, in 1796, but does not elaborate. Akinjobin (cited in Brandon 199727). in greater detail, clairns that a factional division between Awole's predecesor Abiodun (d. 1789) and his council over whether Oyo should expand or not led to the underrnining of the Aiafin's authority. Whatever the reason, Oyo completely disinteçrated by 1840. The power and prestige which the empire wielded prevented major wars within its territories: its collapse brought shifiing alliances of various war lords and precipitated civil wars and left it open to attack from the neighbouring Dahomey and Fulani.

36

Chnpter 2 -Religion and Social Relations in Nineteenth Century Cuba

In the first chapter historical sketches of social relations in both West Africa and

Cuba du ring the initial years of colonization were drawn. This cliapter examines aspects

of the global market and colonial relations that accounted for Cuba's panicular racial

demographic landscape. Cuba was different from many of the other places tliat siniilarly

depended on the slave trade as their econornic base. Cuba had a large free black

population. Discussions of the Catholic Church in Cuba reveal not only that it contributed

to the preservation of Af'irican-influenced religious practices, but also show the fissures

that exisied between the church and state in Cuba in the nineteenth centtir).. The Cliurcli

continued its paternalistic relationsliip with blacks by sponsoring niutual aid clubs, where

the clersy hoped the Afican-Cubans would abandon their African religious and social

practices and begin to adopt Spanish values. For their pan, the blacks used tliese clubs as

havens from the brutal racism that accompanied the nineteenth century in Cuba. Ir was

probably in these clubs that Santena, as a generalized form. was first practiced.

Cubr's Free Blnck Populrtion

As mentioned in the previous chapter, the second economic boom in Cuba began

in the late 1760s. However, the major increase in the importation of Afncan slaves did not

take place until near the end of the eiçhteenth century, with the advent of the sugar boom.

Durinp the first three centuries prior to1800, there was a period of relatively 'inild' small-

scale slavery, in which slaves workinç as artisans or on small farms had the right of

cwrtnci811, which meant they had the right "to have [their] pnce publicly announced in a

court of law and to buy [themselves] free by instalment" (Wolf 1969: 253). Some slaves

37

were able to Save enough incorne from produce sold from their own private truck gardens.

called co/rocos, to pay the required 1/4 of the purchase pnce (usually about $50) as a

down payment for their freedom. Other slaves, in urban centres, worked as skilled

tradesmen, and were also able to buy their freedom. A number of black slaves gailied tlirir

freedom in retum for military service. Coartacion was chiefly used by native born. or

criollo slaves, as opposed to bozales, because bozales had to be on the island for at least

seven years before they could have their prices set (Klein 1967: 199). Historian Herben

Klein, in his cornparison of the institutions of slavery in Cuba and Virginia. describes tlie

context of slavery in Cuba during this period:

In the atmosphere of urban, small farm and skilled slavery that prevailed in Cuba, there was no sharp break between slave and free, or between colored and white freedmen. All three groups performed the same work and often shared the same social existence in the urban centres, and in the rural areas they worked side by side in truck faning, cattle raisins, tobacco growing. and a host of other rural industries (1967: 195).

Klein well illustrates that the presence of free blacks during this period was neirher

exceptional nor conspicuous. The free blacks in Cuba even from the very beginning of tlie

colonial period were a vital and large pan of the Cuban population. In 186 1. out of a

population of 613.039 blacks in Cuba, 2 13.167 were free blacks (Klein 1967: 201). The-

were essential to the economy of the colony and were involved in skilled and unskilled

professions, even in the military. In fact. from the sixteenth century until the I 800s free

blacks contributed more to the defense and rnilitary security of Cuba than did the tiee

whites (Klein 1967: 194-195).

With the advent of free trade and the emegence of the United States as Cuba's

3s

largest trading partner in the 1790s. Cuba's economy became funlier differentiated and

speciaiized. In fact, even thoi~gh the sugar industry was Cuba's primary industry, atter

1800, the Cuban economy became so diversified that only a minority of blacks worked as

slaves on suçar plantations (Klein 1967: 15 1 ). Besides suçar planrarions. niany slaves

worked on tobacco farms and cattle estates. In addition. midway tlirough the nineteentli

century. between 30 and 3 5 percent of Cuba's black population worked in iowns aiid citics

in nonrural occupations (Klein 1967: 158). Funliermore. the demogapliic nature of the

Cuban free black population in the nineteenth cenrury constituted an urban/niral. easthest

dichotomy. The rnajority of free blacks lived in cities and towns workiny in skilled and

senii-skilled occupations. as well as being day labourers, artisans, and doniestics. In urban

centres like Havana and generally the western suyar zones of Cuba. tlierr was a relatively

even distribution of skilled and non-skilled slaves, free blacks. and whites. In contrsist. in

areas not given over to suçar production. such as the rural and urban areas of eastern

Cuba, there were a larger number of free blacks. During the latter pan of the nineteentli

century, then, on the eastern pan of the island the free black population had a distinctive

rural character, while the western free black population was 65 percent iirbaii (Scott 1985-

8). The most iniponant factor that reoriented the economic. racial and social

demographic character of Cuba during the nineteenth century was the intensification of t lie

sugar industry.

After 1 SOO. s u g r production in Cuba expanded to such an extent that the owners

of hundreds of new suçar mills and plantations created a enormous demand for slaves;

hundreds of thousands of so called Yoruba people, along with many other West African

30

çroups of people, were forcibly moved by slave traders to Cuba in order to satisfy this

demand. Life for tlie slaves who worked the big sugar mills in the rural areas of Cuba.

called h~gcnios, was extremely Iiarsh. As the sugar plantation sector developed iiito full

production tIiere was an increase in slave monality, as well as a rise in the infant rnonality

anlong slaves, and a decrease in slave birth rates. An estimated 10 percent of tlie

plantation slaves had to be replaced every year due to such causes as accidents. oveiwork.

suicide, sickness. bnital punishment, and outright murder (Brandon 199.3 : 52-54). I n the

early years (1 790s-1820s) of the sugar boom, the plantations resembled prisons witliout

children, old people. or women, because of the planters' tendency to buy only male

bozales (Klein 1967: 202). Later in the nineteenth century, around the 1840s and 1 S50s.

as the price of slaves increased, the planters changed their strateçies to enable their slave

populations to reproduce. In this period. care of tlie slaves improved and the demographic

structure of slave communities approached nearer a normal distribution in ternis of

categories of age and gender (Brandon 1993: 54).

The sugar boom shifted the racial composition of the island's population; by 1640.

sixty percent of Cuba's population was black, but by the official end of the slave trade

(1886), there was a siçnificant increase in the white population, and the white population

then made up 67.5 percent of the total population (Heuman 1996: 163; Klein 1967: 202).

The reason for this dramatic increase in the white population was, for the most pan.

racially motivated. Many Cuban white inteliectuals at the t h e debated the dangers of the

'Afncanization' of Cuba. These fean were then reflected in the immigration policies of

the nineteenth century which were set up to iure Spanish whites to the island in tlie hope

40

that Cuba could be 'whitened'. With the government providing panial subsidies to private

contractors, the planters mobilized enough capital as incentives to irnport tens of

thousands of white labourers from Spain and the Canary Islands (Scott 1985: 1 18).

Another reason for the immense increase of the white population statistics is that the

census takers at that tirne recorded indentured Indians (imponed froin the Yucatan) and

Chinese labourers as 'white" (Martinez-Alier 1974: S I ).

However, not al1 people of African descent living in the rural areas of Cuba during

this period were working in the sugar industry. Many escaped into the forests and

mountains and were living in secluded communities made up of scattered cabins witli

attached plots of ciiltivated lands, called pr1 r . tq t r . s (Klein 1967: 69). Tliese bands of

escaped slaves, called cinicrr-rwtcs. were considered dangerous by the planters and Cuban

çovernment not only because tliey offered haven for other runaways. bur also because tliey

functioned as bases of slave insurrections; the cimarrones ofien raided plantations for

food, many times killing whites and freeing slaves (Brandon 1993: 64; Murphy 1 988:

1 18). Other people of African descent living in rural areas were free blacks. who eked out

an existence farming on leased land in the countryside (Brandon 1993: 66). And. as noted

beforehand, a large nniinority of slaves in rural Cuba were working in otlier Fonns of

production that involved milder forms of control than sugar plantations. such as on

tobacco fams and cattle estates.

The Catholic Churcli iii Cuba

The policies of the Catliolic Church regarding African slaves in the New World

were primarily evangelical. Seventeent h century declarations and O rdinances, for example.

4 1

specified that al1 slaves were to be baptized within one year of their amval to Cuba. and

that they were also to be instnicted in the Roman Catholic faith. The Church's position

on slavery in Cuba was that slavery was the best method of ensunnç Africans could be

shown the way to God (Thomas 197 1 : 39). Although never officially opposed to slave'.

the members of the Catholic clergy consistently made deliberate attempts to interfere in

the direct relationship of master and slave on the behalf of the slaves in order tliat the

slaves be çuided toward God. For example. the clergy played an important role in the

process of manumission by encouraçinç the masters to manumit slaves on special

occasions as a way of çivinç thanks to God (Klein 1967: 90-98). In Cuba manumissioii

had always been considered a natural pan of slavery and was imbedded in traditional

custom and law, as well as being fidly endorçed and promoted by the Church. Historian

Herbert Klein (1967: 98) stresses the importance of manumission as a derermining factor

for the dramatic increase in the free black population of Cuba in the early nineteenth

century. Verena Martinez-Alier (1974: 3-4). however, daims that Klein overstates

manumission as a determining factor for the rise in the free black population becaiise he

did not fully take into account the rise in natural binh rates of blacks in the previous

centuries when a more 'milder' form of slavery existed. Nevertheless. it is evident thar

the Church contributed to the relatively larse and ever growing free black population.

known as gente de color (people of colour), during the slave years.

The catalyst for Cuba's historically large and ever growing Free black population

can probably be attributed to what was known as the hiddg~~ismo ideal of the sixteenth

and seventeenth centuries The hidalguismo ideal fbndamentally meant an aversion toward

manual labour. Thus, white crafismen, eaçer to 'retire' from manual labour. were

prepared to teach their skills to their black slaves. Skilled black slaves could tlien seIl their

services in their spare time and gradually Save enouçh money to buy their freedom. A

result of this was that the large influx of white immigrants in the nineteenth century were

at a disadvantaçe when they competed for jobs with the skilled black workers (Simons

1996: 109). Additionally, natural increase in birth rates because of tlie more favourable

living conditions than the previous century probably accounted for sonie of the increase in

the free black population as well (Knight 1970: 17; Martinez-Alier 1974: 3). Some other

factors influencinç the large population of free blacks in Cuba were that many amved in

Cuba as free blacks and some were freed by the British after they captured slave slips

near Cuba. Furthermore, some of the escaped slaves, or cimarrones. were able to 'blend

in' with free black communities and rernain undetected. Nevenheless, what is most

important to note from al1 this is that there was a dramatic increase in both the free black

and black slave populations in Cuba throughout the nineteenth century and that this

increase had lasting and dramatic effects on race and class relations and. by extension, the

development of Santeria.

The above is evidence that the initial hegemonic project of Spain conceming the

island of Cuba was fractured. As was pointed out in the introduction of this thesis.

hegemonic projects rarely, if ever, are comprised of one dominant çroup with one agenda.

but are made up of diverse dominant çroups who hold different meaninçs of tlie

hegemonic project. The dominant sector of Cuba was made up of different çroups, such

as the Spanish Crown. the Cuban Creole oligarchy, and the Catholic Church. We can see

43

how the Catliolic Churcli's view of tlie hegemonic project differed from some of the otliei

views witliin the dominant sector. As we sliall see later, these fractures opened spaces for

African religious expression and contributed to the binh of Santeria.

The Coiiflict Betweeii Cliiircli iiiid Stiite iii the Nineteeiitli Ceiitu y

Martinez-Alier (1974) in her excellent study of class and interracial niarriages in

Cuba shows that along with the increase of the free black population duriny the iiineteenrli

centtiry. there was also an i~icrease in legal and social discriminatioii against rlie free black

population. According ro Maninez-Alier ( 1 974: 43-56). in the last quaner of die

eighteenth century and throughout the major ponion of tlie nineteentli centiiry a rift

between the Cliurch and Spanish Crown concerniny niarriages of unequal paniiers

widened funher and funlier. The Church, faithful to its eçalitarian policies and its doctrine

which viewed concubinage as a monal sin, oficially nirintained unconditional freedom of

rnarriage aniong Catliolics. The Crown. meanwliile enacted legislation and issued decrees.

starting witli the 1776 Royal Praçmatic on marriage (which was extended to the colonies.

includinç Cuba, in 1778), that drastically cunailed freedom of marriege. This law

specified that marriage of unequal partners did severe darnage to the family's honour as

well as to social order in general. It was decreed that parental consent was needed for

marriages of people iinder the age of twenty-five and/or under the guidance of tlieir

parents (the age was raised in 1806 to twenty-three for men and twenty-five for women).

Disinheritance was the usual penalty, althouçh it was not a very effective deterrent

because many of the couples' parents were poor and possessed little propeny. A new

decree in 1803 relegted the role of the parents or guardians to arbiters of contentious

marriaçes with the civil authorities intervening only in disputed cases (Maninez-Alier

1974: 1 1). Also after 1803, for clergymen the penalty for disobeying the law by following

tlieir consciences and marryinç uneqiial panners was confiscation of tlieir propeny and

exile (Martinez-Alier 1974: 45).

The prirnary category for defining a person's social status to determine the tiiiequnl

nature of marriage unions in question was race, even tliough tliere was also mucli concern

over a person's socioeconon~ic circiimstances. The concern over race atid inerriage was

made explicit on 15 Ocrober 1805 in a decree wliich stated:

... those perçons of known nobility and known purity of blood wlio. liavins attained their niajority. intended to marry a member of the said castes (negroes. mulattos and others) must reson to the Viceroys. Presideiits and Audiences of the Dominion who will çrant or deny the corresponding licence ... (cited in Maninez-Alier 1974: 13).

But racism in Cuba in the nineteenth centuly did not just reside in the judicial realiii, it was

a powerful element of the dominant culture and permeated almost al1 aspects of the

society. For rnost people in Ciiba durins tlie first Iialf of the nineteenth cenii~ry. the

concept of purity ofblood, or limpieza de sangre (see page 3 1 ). fornied the founciatiori foi

the concept of racial classification (Maninez-Nier 1974: 15-1 8). In nineteenth centun,

Cuba race classification was based on both physical appearance and legal coloiir (based on

baptisnial records controlled by parish priests) (hlartinez-Alier 1971: 71). Thus. in the

majorîty of cases of dissenting parents of a person wishing to ma- a prrrdo (rniilatto) or

nmrerm (black). the parents objected to the marriage because they were concerned that tlie

slave background of the pardo or nioreno would dishonour the family and 'contaminate'

the 'pure'. or 'more pure than tlie potential spouse'. whiter blood of the family. Many

free blacks also subscribed to tliis concept of racial classification. Free blacks cateçorized

themselves in terms of tlieir distance frorri Africa and slave stacus, wlietlier they were boni

in Cuba or Africa, and also a classification of nine types of free black based on the distance

from European andior Mrican ancestry. demonstrating the subtle di fferences in Iiow

btacks defined themselves in racial terms (Martinez-Alier 1974: 9s). According to

Martinez-Alier, self-denigration wrs prevalent among the upper and middle sectors of ilir

free black population as was evidenced by theira constant endeavours for social

advancement tlirouyh whitening tlieniselves by marrying people witli ligliter skin (if not

white) than themselves (Maninez-Alier i 974: 1 S. 7 1 , 9 1-99). Maninez-Alier writes:

Among the coloured people a very yeneral aspiration was to become as liçht and to get as far away from slavery as possible. Instead of developing n consciousness of tlieir own wonh they made their own white discriminating ideology imposed on them from above. The same disdain witli wliich tliey were re~arded by most wliites they oflen applied tn tlieir peers ( 1 974: 96).

Here, Martinet-Alier succinctly describes the immense power of tlie dominant ideology

which existed in Cuba durinç the nineteenth century. Even thougli tlie blacks in Cuba

during the nineteenth century may have not reçarded themselves as oppressed. they

nevenheless remained divided arnong themselves. The hesemony was so siiccessful tliai

free blacks. tlie subordinate group most eqiiipped to wrest control from tlie ruling class.

produced cleava_res amonp tliernselves tliereby securinç the niling classes' position. I

contend tliai the free black population l a s the subordinate group most able to wrest

control away from the mling classes because of their historical involvernent in the Cuban

military. As Klein points out. free blacks in Cuba had a long hinory of military

46

involvement (1967: 194-195) (see page 37). In fact, as it will later becoiiie clear (see

pages 67-68) some free blacks were militnry leaders. From tliis. it is reasonable to assen

that free blacks not only Iiad access to and knowledge of the latest in weaponry. but wet-e

also well versed in leadinç military caiiipsigns, and as such, were. at tirnes. in n sood

position to stage a revolution.

Maninez-Alier's study also reveals att itiides about nineteent h cenr iiry Cii ban

interracial marriages tliat iie toyether issues of class, gender and race. Unions between

white nien and black or n~iilatto wonien were niore comnion tliaii Africaii-Ciibati tiieii t o

white women. Tlie former type of union \vas more tolerated tlian tlie latter. even if tlio

white woman was rnarryinç an African-Cuban nian of a higher socioecono~iiic status. In

fact, the union between a white woman and an African-Cuban man was generally looked

down on. However. a rnarriage between a white iiian of lower socioeconomic status than

his African-Cuban spouse was tolerated because the man could iniprove Iiis economic

status, while the African-Cuban woman and her ciiildren gained a degree of social

advancement tlirough 'wiiitening' (Maninez-Alier 1 974: 1%- 139; Helg 1995. 17).

Martinez-Alier concludes by stressing that nineteenth century Cuba's rigidly stratitied

hierarchical social order marginalized African-Cuban women's sexuality. affected their

fom~ of mating and \vas expressed in tlie incidences of concubinage ( 1974 : 128).

In the conflict between them the Church and the State employed different fornis of

rhetoric to claim legitimacy. The Church's claim to legitimacy rested upon rhetoric that

espoused individual morality of egalitarianism -- "al1 Catholics were equal and ... free to

marry ... [especially for] 'reasons of conscience"'- while the State claimed that '"the

47

inteçrity and continuity of the social order ... always prevails over religio-moral

considerations" (Maninez-Alier 1974: 47). The Church argued tliat recoynition of

marnages between wliites and blacks would benefit public morality by preventiny sinful

concubinage and tlie proliferation of illegitimate children in Cuba. Conversely. civil

authorities, althougli acknowledging that concubinage, a cominon occureiice. was *a

deeply rooted evil'. still preferred it over interracial marriages.

In Maninez-Alier's analysis we not only see the cleavages between Cliurcli and

state. but we also notice cleavages witliin the free black population. Her study also briiiys

into relief the Iiistorical relationship berween the Catliolic Churcli and the free black

population. Tlie coliesiveness of the culture conquest project initiated by the Spanisli

Churcli and Crown diiring the seulement years in post-Columbian Cuba has. over time.

become more and more fractured. As a result, there were spaces created by the

divisiveness of tliat hegemonic project which some of the subordinate groups could Iiave

exploited which woiild Iiave allowed them to enjoy more of what Cuban society lind to

offer. S o m individiials of the subordinate goups probably did take advantage of tiiose

spaces. Yet, as Martinez-Alier points out above, in çeneral. the subordinate groups did not

fùlly utilize those spaces to their advantage because many of them defined tlieiiiselves in

accordance wirh the racial terins set fonh by the dominant hegemony. Furtherniore. lier

study allows us to rethink the relationship between the Catholic Chiirch and Santeria. As

will lacer become clear. that relationship involved more than Santeria merely being

dominated by the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church accommodated certain aspects

of Santeria worship in its attempt to incorporate Santeria into the dominant culture.

18

Cabildos titid the Ciitliolic Cliurcti

The Cuban Catholic clergy made concened efforts to evangelize tlie slaves in the

cTrarii urban centres of Cuba. In Havana, for example, diocesan priests implemented a pro,

starting in the niid-eighteenth centiiry that sanctioned the preservation of whar was

regarded as African ethnic identity while also attempting ro inculcate blacks wirli

Christianity. Tliey hoped that the Africans woiild eventually be swepr inro the mainstreaiii

of Cuban Cliristianity and forsake tlieir African customs. Under tlir leadership of Havaiiii's

Bisliop Pedro Agustin Morel de Santa Cniz. clergymen were appointed to go to specific

African-Cuban ccihi/clos on Sundays and Iioly days to teach the Christian doctrine.

Cabildos were Spanish designed and instituted catliedral brotherhoods, sonie of whicli. in

Cuba, beçan to serve as Afro-Cuban clubs. The word cobildo in Hispanic cultitre usually

denotes the municipal council or its meetings: Iiowever. it also refers to r cntliedral

brotherhood (Haring 1947: 156 n. 1). It is in the sense of catliedral brotherliood tliat I use

the terin 'cabildo' in tliis discussion.

Clerg-nien. who were appointed to each cabildo, assigned a virgin or saint wliicli.

under their direction, was to be worsliipped by each club (Klein 1967: 70).' Parterneci

afler the cabildos designed for Afncans living in Spain, the Cuban cabildo's ecclesiastical

functions were the organization and celebration of comporsns (costumed carnival

processions) and the indoctrination of Christian rites and devotions. Cabildos constructed

for Africsns had esisted in Cuba since at least the sixteenth century; the earliest known

cabildo, the Xuestra Seiiora de los Remedios. was founded in 1598 and was managed by

free blacks in Havana (Matibag 1996: 23).

The organization of the African-Cuban cabildos was made possible in great pan

because of the conditions of urban slavery in Cuba from the sixteentli to eighteentli

centuries. Urban slavery was less restrictive than plantation slaves, and skilled slaves

whose owners rented tliem out as professional musicians or cooks. for esample. tiad

access to free tirne (Klein 1967: 73, 158. 163). Some not only bought tlieir freedoiii. but

also were able control a sizeable number of bars and taverns in Havana (Bi-andon 199-3.

67). The bars and taverns provided arenas for contact and recreation for free blacks and

slaves. They also provided a refuge from the atinosphere of racial discrimination wliicli

was pervasive in the inid nineteentli centiiry, as well as servinç as important centres for the

preservation of African religion in Cuba's cities, even thougli froin the late ei~liteeiitli

century tlirougii the nineteenth century they increasingly suffered interference into tlieir

affairs froni botli the cliurch and state (Brandon 1993: 69, 72).

The cabildos for Af'ricans in both Spain and Cuba also served a social function.

They were centres of recreation where slaves and free blacks of siniilar cultural and ethnic

backgrounds githered to dance and drink. The Cuban Catholic Churcli pronioted tlieir

organization for evangelization and mutual aid and sanctioned the eniphasis placed on

ethnicity. Each cabildo accentuated what the Catholic Church in Cuba believed to be a

distinct African 'nation' or etlinic proup, grouping together rregrus JL' I I L I C ~ ~ I I . ' For tlieir

members they not only functioned as self-supponing, niutual-aid societies providing carr

for the elderly and infirm, arranging funerals for the dead and collectinç dues for funds to

buy freedom for the slave members. they also served as social clubs for dances and

reliçious devotion (Murphy 1988: 28-29). The great scholar of African Cuban culture.

50

Fernando Onk. wliile tracing the history of eigliieen Afro-Cuban cabildos. clainis tliat the

cabildos were farnous for their dances (Ortiz 1971 : 18-27). Each cabildo performed

dances with drum types, songs. music, lanp~iage, and drum rhythrns that were stylistically

distinctive to each nation. Altliough the 1792 Good Government Law. nieant to control

the moral behaviour of citizens. limited tlie dances to Catholic religious Iiolidays. the

cabildos still reniained ' Africsn' in origin and style (Murphy 1988: 29). Later. r hroiighoiir

the nineteentli centiiry. laws and by-laws designed to contain the cabildo dances became

increasingly intrusive and restrictive. The cabildos becanie undergound secretive

organizations just before the twentieth century (Brandon 1 993 : S5).

Eiigenio Matibag points out that tlie cabildos. in the New World. served the

colonizers by aveninp the possibility of revolutionary action by nieans of diversion

throuçh a 'divide and mie' policy by grouping cabildo members accordiny to their etliniciry

and shared linguistic characteristics (1996: 23; also Scott 1985: 266). Altliough social

control seeiiis a plausible reason for grouping Africans accordin2 to their et hnicity. i t is

also true that the orspization of cabildos by African nations was a reflection of the racial

ideologies wiiich were characteristic of the colonial period. Cuban whites identified the

different etlinicities among irnponed slaves and former slaves associating certain. ofien

imaçined, temperaments with each ethnicity. Around the 1840s. for example. tlie

prejudices of the day were tliat "the Mandingas and Gangas 'were tlie most tractable and

tnistwonhy'; tlie Lucumis were 'quick-teinpered, wariike, cunning,' but 'Iiard-working':.. .

the Congos were 'stupid, great drunkards, and sensualists'; and the Macuas were 'brutal as

the Congos'" (Paquette 1988: 37). Aside from the motives the colonial eovernment may

5 1

have had for amalçamatinç people into cabildos according to tlieir perceived ethnicity. it is

reasonable to suppose tliat the tolerance eshibited by the Catholic clegy for tlie presence

of African identity in the cabildos inadvenently contributed to the evolution of Saiiteria.

These cabildos. in turn. served as centres for the dissemination of Santeria throuyhout the

island.

Several ethnically distinct African Cuban religions arose from interactions in

cabildos. For esample. various Congo groups established Nsanca. Mapombe. and Palo

Monte traditions. wliile the Efik of the Niger delta created the Abakua society (ofien

referred to as iiaiiigos) (Murphy 1988: 32). Tlie Yoruba-Lucumi system, Iiowever.

predominated t hrou$ioiit Cuba providing an institut ional frainework for African-Cubait

religion in general, not only because the Yoruba were the inajority of the African slave

population in Cuba, but also because of "tlie Sreater organization and striicturalization of

their religion" (Cros Sandoval cited in Matibag 1996: 49). Many of the traits of other

African culture groups in Cuba were absorbed and reinterpreted by Yoniba-Senteria (Cros

Sandoval 1995: S3). This is not to say liowever that the other African cultiiral elenients

had completely faded away. Abakua and Palo Monte traditions. for instance. still coiitinue

in Cuba today.'

The Catholic-sponsored urban cabildos represented an attempt by a certain sectoi-

of the Cuban ruling class (the Cathoiic Church) to guide the cultural change of a sector of

the Cuban subaltern yroups (African-Cubans). The çrouping together of Africans in Cuba

into different ethnic groups provided the members of the naciones an arena to collect

shared mernories of Mrican identity and Afncan-Cuban identity, and thus. produce and

52

niaintain culture. Here the Catholic Cliurch. representing only one ficet of the entire

Spanish Iieyeciionic project, acconiiiiodated sonie of the aspirations and iiiterests of the

African subordinate yroups. altliough ensuring that their own interests predoininated. The

hegemonic project of tlie Catholic Cliiircli could be seen as a failed atteinpt because the

African-Ciibans were never completely convened. Sorne African-Cubans niay iiave been

fully convened to Catholicisiii, but many practiced a religion that was fui~daitiencally

African, yet ovrrlaid witli Catholic elements (Santeria. for exainple). But. if c m analyzes

what occurred over the long terni, it does not prove to be a failure at all. This becoiiies

evident today. when Santeria practitioners are asked wliat son of religion do tliey practicr

and many of theni answer that tliey are Catholic.

T h e Cat liolic Clw rcli iii t lie Cou t i tryside

The Church was not always able to iniplement the son of guided culture change in

the countryside witli tlie sanie effectiveness as it did in the urban centres. One of the

reasons for this failure is that after 1800 clerics found tl~emselves with the unenviable task

of tryin- to teach prayers to people who did not have a coinplete understanding of tlie

priest's langiiage (Spanish) and even less understanding of the language of the prayers

(Latin). Furtliermore. the brutal and dehumaniring work environment of the sugar

plantations and mills was not conducive to learning Catholicism. or even practicing it. for

that matter. Most days slaves could only find four or five hours of free tiiiie whicli tliey

preferred to spend sleepins rather than recitinç prayen (Brandon 1993: 62) . Slaves'

working conditions liad deteriorated because in the nineteenth century many of the more

humanitarian provisions of the slave code were not enforced, particularly in the rural areas

* - 2 J

(Corwin 1967: 53). Nearing the end of the 1700s. priests who had been assiyned to siiçar

estate chapels began increasingly to conie under tlie einploy of the estates rather ilian the

churcli. and by the end of the century, religious services on tlie plantations liad al1 but

corne to an end (Brandon 1993: 63).

Liicuiii i 'Et l i i~icity' ;ilid tlie Birth of' S;iii teria

The Yoruba people in Cuba came to be referred to as members of the Lucunii

nation. The naiiie Luciiiiii iiiay have originated froiii the way tliat tlie Yoiuba yreeted each

other, "olukii mi". wliich nieans "my friend" i i i Yoruba (Bascom 1972: 1 . The Liictinii

nation included hetero~enoiis Yoruba subçroups such as Oyos. Egbas, Ijebus. and Ijesliaa

althouçh the Lucunii religion (Santeria) in Cuba also includes traits whicli were probably

derived from Daliomey. Benin. and Nupe. As previously discussed. Cuban Santeria

derives froni the Orisha-based religion practiced by the people of the various Yoruba

subgroups of the West African Giiinea Coast. Lucumi religion and ethnic identity of Ciiba

was doubtlessly linked with Yoruba culture of Mrica and also forms the foundation of

Santeria. Evidence for this is that Santeria is sometimes referred to as 'Luciinii relisioii'.

the Yoruba vocabulary dominates the ritual language used in Santeria prayers. chants and

son-, and many Lucunii claim to be descendants of Yoruba (Brandon 19% : 56).

1t is important to note tliat there was a sudden and sipnificant increase in i~iiported

slaves of the Lucurni nation (Yoniba) between 1850 and 1870. The Lucumi made up

slightly more than one-third of the slave plantation population in the final twenty years of

daver). (Brandon 1903: 58). It is critical to consider as well tliat it was at this tinie tliat

the conditions of slavery in Cuba had improved. As mentioned previously, the planters.

when faced witli the ever increasinç price of slaves. resoned to a policy of providing tlie

conditions under whicli their slave populatioiis could reproduce tlieniselves. This policy

iocluded providiny better medical facilhies and promotiny family slave cornmiinities ratlier

than al1 male prison/labour camp environment (Brandon 1993: 54). Tliese conditions nor

only increased the Yoruba population in Cuba. tliey also provided sonie spaces foi

reliçious pract ice.

Elenients of Yoruba religion diiriiig tliis period. and quite likely before tliis j~eiiocl.

were preseivecl among rural slaves and free blacks workinj on plantations. in iiiaroon

palenques, and in the urban church cabildos as well as cabildos ii i tlie Iiomes of free blacks

(CCI.YCI ien~ylo or 'liouse temple'). Historian Jose Franco. conimenting on Cubm palenqiiea

of the first 30 years of the nineteenth century, claiins:

The Arcliivo Nacional has numerous reports and communications which describe the p r l c i r p ~ s .... Men and women lived in absolute proniiscuit y and were dominated by their leaders (wliom they called captains) and by the sorcerer or sorri~+o[sic], who would at times function as witclidoctor (cited in Pérez de La Riva 1996: 57).

Although this report uses tlie term 'santero'. it does not specifically state tliat tlie

cimarrones (run-away slaves who lived in the palenques) theinselves iised the terni; tlius.

tlie terniinology could Iiave been a reflection of the author's bias or confusion (Brandon

1993: 66). Research on palenques in Cuba is too fra~mentary to prove that Sailteria

developed tliere; liowvever. the report clearly demonstrates that Santeria esisted in Cuba in

the first three decades of the nineteentli century.

The social framework wiiere the mixture of folk Catholicism and Yoruba orislia

religion evolved into Santeria probably took place in Lucumi urban church cabildos rather

yi

than the palenques. It is alrnost impossible to tell when this exactly took place because the

set of interactions between varioiis Afncan religions and Catholicism have been and st il1

are Iiighly fliiid and dynaniic. Some transforrtiations can be pinpointed, sucti as tlie

addition, deletion. or change of status of certain saints and orishas. However. the Fiision

of the Afiican and Catholic elenients that resulted in the formation of the basic u~iderlyiii~

structure of Santeria cannot be pin-pointed in time. This was a relatively long process O t'

social interaction tliat took place in Cuba between 1492 and 1870 (Brandon 1993: 3 7-78)

What can be said is tliat tlie underlying sinicture of Santeria is a resrilt of [lie eiidiirance of

some Af'rican religiocis fornis in different contexts in Cuba and the concened effort of botli

the Catholic Cliurcli and the Yoniba slaves and their descendants to syntliesize tliese foriiis

with Catholicisiii.

S m t e r h iii Cti bti

The syncretis!n wliich resiilted in the binli of African Cuban Santeria basically

involved two impottant processes: the assimilation of some of the African Yoriiba local

orisha cults into one single religious structure whicli features the major seneric orislias:

and the association of tlie latter with the Roman Catholic Saints. The estiiiiated nuniber of

orishas that the African Yoniba religion recognizes ranges from 400 to 1700. However.

in Cuba. only sisteen major orishas are acknowledged on a reguliir basis (Bascoin 1969:

77; Lefever 1996: 320; Murphy 1988: 13). Mercedes Cros Sandoval ( 1995: 8 5 ) esplains

that since the anificially formed slave communities in Cuba were made up of disparate

groups of Yoruba people, they tended to worsliip al1 of the generic onshas rather than

those of a single family Iineage. Therefore. the number of orishas declined from the

56

hundreds to about twenty. Two other developments should also be briefly inentioned.

First, the Egungun ciilt of the dead (as mentioned on page 16). wliich was a nia-ior aspect

of the African Yoruba religion. lost importance in Cuba because slave- permanently

separated the Yoruba from tlieir patrilineal lineages (Castellanos 1996: 42). Along wit

worshipinj ancestors of a patrilineal family. santeros in Cuba also venerated t lie clients'

protector spirits, and the dead in general (Cros Sandoval 1995: 89). And since the chain

of religioiis t ransniission based on lineage had been severed by the condit ions of slaveiy.

patron orishas were not inherited but were thougiit of as types ofb.giiardiaii anyels" wlin

chose someone as a son or daughter on an individual basis (Castellanos 19%: 12).

Second, the cults tliat were associnted with tlie dead disappeared. Lucumi eanli cults siicli

as Onile and Osboni in Lucuiiii religion eventually died in Cuba becaiise of tlie absence of

individual or communal ownership of the land in the Cuban slave conrext (Brandon 19%

77-78).

As the result of identifications. associations and projections tlie Yom ba people

made. the orishas. over time, became fused with certain Catholic saints. In many cases.

the associations were based on similarities between tlie mythology of the orislia and the

hagiography of the Catholic saints. Thus, the Yoruba and their descendants in Cuba. in

acknowledging the scope and intensity of the colonial power. became -public' Catholics bv

fusing togetlier the figures that acted as emissaries between Iiumans and the one supreiiic

god in both religions (God in Roman Catholicism and Olodumare in Yoruba religion) -- the ot-ishas and the saints. From this. there developed the syncretic religion of Santeria. or

way of the saints: the saint is regarded as a patliway toward a panicular orisha.

57

Altliouçh orishas have the oiitward appearance of unidimensional entities. a

multitude of nieanings of differinç aspects of liuman existence are reflected in tlie

spectrum of avatars or pathways of each orisha. Ochun. the goddess of love. for esaiiiple.

is represented by a continuum of entities who range from the beautifiilly clotlied sensiious

Ochun Yeyé Moro to Ochun Kolé Kolé. the poor owner of only one single faded dress. oti

the otlier end of the continuum (Castellanos 1996: 45). According to Sandra T. Barnes

(1 989: 19). the orishas espress to the followers the complexity of t heir own human lives.

She contends tliat because they have multiple meanings. the orislirs are inalleable anci cati

g o w and adapt to clianging conditions. This. in part. offers an esplanatioii for how the

conceptualizations of the orislias survived the adverse conditions of slavery wliicli tlie

bearers of those ideas Iiad to endure in Cuba.

These pathways are exemplified by a series of symbolic analogies shared by certain

orishas and saints whicli aids in binding them together. For instance. the female Saint

Barbara is associated with the male orislia Chanyo. yod of fire and thiinder. in most part

because of lier accoutrements as slie appears in Catholic lithograplis: lier white gown witli

a red mantel are Chango's colors; the sword that she holds in her left hand is the symbol of

Chango's double edsed axe; and so on (Gonzaiez-Wippler 1989: 266). Additionally. Saiiit

Barbara is tlie patroness of Spanisli anillery. wiiose cannons sound like tliunder. and wlio.

like Chango. another warrior divinity. also thunders. Yet Chang8 was also identifiecl. tn a

lesser deçree, with male Catholic saints such as Saint Mark, Saint George* and Saint

Jerome; in each case there are common characteristics or objects which synibolically bind

them together (Gonzalez-Wippler 1989: 267).

5s

Orishas, t lierefore. displayed diverse and sometimes contradictory personalities

inherent in their pathways, or what santeros cal1 cnnririos. Some orishas. such as Elegpau.

have, over time, developed as many as twenry caminos. while otlier orislias, sucii as

Chango. Yemaya, and Obatala, Iiave both male and female caminos. I t is important to

note here tliat each camino dovetails with a number of divination inytlis. This inalleable

feature of Santeria allowed the diviner a choice of multiple interpretarions depending on

which of them the diviner believed would best suit tlie client's life problenis. The list in

Table 1 (tnken froni Brandon 1993: 77; see p. 59 below) illustrates sonie of tlie major

onshas together witli tlieir corresponding saint and attnbutes wliicli forined the basic

structure of Santeria.

Diviria tioti

Central to Santeria was the ritiial of divination. In pragiiiatic teriiis. divination

offered counsel and guidance to Santeria followers who souçht solutions froiii santeros

and santeras (male and female priests) or babalawos to deal witli everyday problenis

associated with nioney. work, health, friendship, and love. In Cuba. tlie niost coninion

ritual divination ceremony was called diloggrm. This ceremony. although having

similarities to Afncan Yoruba divination ceremonies, was created in Cuba (Barnet 1997,

84). Diloçgun is ais0 referred to as ech--w /r~.s cr~~-cicdr.v. '"castinç the sheik" ~ C I C L ~ I : ~

wicr visru. "taking a loo kW; ~~~~$sr~ir.ve. "regist er*' or "search"; and hctjcfr c/ cmzrco/.

"dropping the shells" (Matibag 1996: 75). Less common methods are called ohi.

"coconut" (throwing secrions of coconuts instead of shells), which can be practiced by al1

believen; and Ijn. the niost prestigious practice, oniy performed by babalawos (Matibag

Orishri - O 1 ofi

Obatala

Oshun

Yemaya

Babaluaiye

Osun

Ibeji

Saint - Christ

Virgin of Mercy

Barbara

Virgin of La Candelaria

Virgin of Caridad del Cobre

Virgin of Regla

HoIy Child of Atoche

Peter

Cosma and Dainian

Francis of Assisi

Attrihiites One of the three aspects ot' Oloduniare (God) Father of the orislia. guardian of morality. order and tradition. cives peace and tranqiiilit y C

God of thunder. lightning. iiiid fire; the wrath of Olodiiiiia ix.

rules the passions Guardian of the cenietery. justice. and Iiurricanes: concerned with death aiicl r l i r busiiiess world Patroness of lave. money. aiid yellow rnerals; riiles ses aiid

rnarriage Motlier of the saints/orislia, rzoddess of the sen and niotlici- I

of the wodd; niles maternir? Messenger for al1 the orislia. keeper of doors and crossronds: rules comm~inication. ctiancc. and hazard Patron saint of the sick, tàtlier of the world becaiise of Iiis power over illness God of iron, warfare, and sacrifice; rules employnieni Twin deities; bring o o d fortune and protection agsirist sorcery Owner of Ifa divination, mardian of the knowledye 01' - past and future

1996: 74).

The procedure of dilosyn involved the diviner's reading and interpretatioti of

sixteen cowrie shelis tliat the diviner had cast. The sliells' backsides were filed flat so tliar

if they landed on tlieir backs. tlieir "moutlis". or the natural dentated openinys or tlie

sliells, would be turned upward: it was tlirough these openings (the ho^ rL/ .WUIIO.

"mouth of the saint") tliat the orislias spoke. Tlie nuniber of shells wliich lancied face up.

or "speaking". determined the o h or /cn.rr of the throw, and eacli fih tigitre corresponcis

to a certain set of narratives or po~~rkis. l n Cuba, as opposed to -4frica. pairs of othr were

read togetlier: tlius. the possible combinations of the sliells landiny iip or do\vii in eacli

cast multiplieci by sisteen possible combinations of ille second throw eqiials 256 possible

o h pairs which correspond to 256 sets of prayers. myths, proverbs. verses. songs aiid

praise names of the orislias. Tlie diviner was required not only to memorize al1 of tliese

narratives. but the diviner also "sliould be capable of choosing that one tliat relates best to

the life and problein of the clieiii" (Cros Sandoval 1975: 61) .

Pii t a kis

The patakis. or sacred narratives. besides having provided the basis for diaynosis

and prognostication in diloggun rituals. organized and preserved the foundations of

Santeria religious practice. In fact. babalawo Jiilio Garcia Cortez States tliat for present

day Santeria followers "the root of conduct is found in the patakis" (cited in Matibag

1996: 74). Santena diviners of Ifa, Dilloçun and Obi oracles narrated wliat were orïginally

Yorubaland patakis or inyths during consultations. But, as with al1 cultural encounters.

the patakis narrateci in Cuba went tliroujh a process of adaptation and reinterpretation

(Rarnos 1997: 56). During the initial years of slavery the babalawos orally passed on tlieir

Ifa practices of Yoniba religion. inclildinp the numerous prayers. songs. and tliousands of

divination verses (Miirphy 1988: 62) . Today various versions of the patakis are well

documented (see Bascom 1969; Epega and Neimark L995; Gonzalez-Wippler 1985. Cros

Sandoval 1975).

The Santeria diviner not only drew oii these narratives during the oracle. lie also

attached his own interpretations with the "reading of a destiny into the gaps betwee~i tests.

signs and symbolic acts" (Matibag 1996: 71). Thiis. the diviner personalized and

contextiirlized the niytliical character of tlie narrative according to the client's situation.

offerin2 the client stratejies for Iiandling problenis of daily life (Jules-Rosette 1978: 5 5 1.

557). Migene Gonzalez-Wippler describes how Santeria diviners presently offer a

contextualized interpretation of each of tlieir odii readings:

Each individual interpreter adds his own definitions as lie deschiphers [sic] the oracle, but tlie rneanings given here form the basis of the registro ["readin$'] ... interpretations given here do not apply to every consultant, and it is up to the santero and his understanding of the odu to deterinine which of the admooitions attached to a pattern to bis client ( 19S5: 11).

Because the reading of the oracle during the diloygiin ritual came froni the myths and tales

of the pairs of odu and their associations with the orishas, as well as from tlie diviner's

own contestualized interpretrtion. the diviner probably had to be aware of the

socioecononiic and political circumstances which ordered his clients' lives. Altliougli

there is no recorded evidence to support this contention. it is reasonable to contemplate

that the diviners in Cuba just pnor to and during the 1959 Cuban Revoiution rnight have

62

considered the panicular structure of the society and its moral values of tlieir clients and

tlien integrated these considerations into their personalized interpretations of the pataki

narratives.

Espiritisino"

We have seen how identifications. associations and projections theYoruba people

and their descendants made between the orisha and the hagiograpliy of the Catholic saint

resulted in the syinbolic fusion of both. In sonie cases, the Afncan orishas' original

characteristics. attribures, and powers were sIiglitly altered to assiinie t hose of the Cat holic

saints. The Catholic influence on tlie orislias depended larçely upon where the syncretisiii

took place: in sotiie cabildos there was very little Catholic and European iiifliience, wliile

in others it was very strong (Cros Sandoval 1995: 86). One such Eiiropesn intluetice.

Espiritismo, initially regarded by the Cuban middle class of the mid- nineteenth centiiry as

more an expression of 'science' than a religious manifestation, diffused through Cuban

society in tlie mid-late nineteenth century from the urban creole niiddle class to the lower

class and then radiated out into rural areas. wliere it became mixed with the prevalent folk

Catholicisin (Brandon 1993: 85-90). During the end of the nineteenth century and the

beginning of the twentieth century some practitioners of Santeria (made up of the fusion

of African and Catholic elements) introduced elements of the European healing-oriented

Espiritismo into tlieir religion. This resulted in the basic form of Santeria as it is practiced

t o d q in Cuba (Brandon 1993: 161). It is important to mention at this point that the

white Cuban population became more attracted to Santeria when Santeria began exhibitiiiy

szreater Catholic and European spiritualist influence (Cros Sandoval 1995: 86). -

63

The wliite Ciiban creole middle class were drawn to the 'scientific' aspects of the

French philosopher Allan Kardec's work on comniunication with the spirits of the dead.

In fact, Kardecism, which first appeared in Cuba in 1856, became imrnensely popular

throuçhout Latin America and the French and Spanish Caribbean in the 1870's as middle

class believers sat around tlie tables of each otlier's homes falling into trances afier tlie

special invocations liad been made. Tliey followed Kardec's rnethods in an orderly fashion

insisting al1 the wliile tliat their practice ofE.~pN*iri.s/rro Je n r ~ w was modern and prirely

scientific, identifyins tliemselves as cirn~r~jic'os (Brandon 1993: 66).

Wlien its poprilarity swelled aniong the lower middle class and lower classes of

blacks and whites, people beyan to focris on healing aspects of the here and now. seekiny

solutions for sickness and the problems of living. Early Santeria practitioners found

aspects of Espiritisnio both appealing and familiar because Espiritisnio, likr Santeria and

Catholicism. featured saints. Yet at the same time, Espiritismo, unlike Catliolicism (whicli

focused on the afierlife), was similar to the aspect of Santeria that addressed issues of

daily life. Afienvard, when soine of the elenlents of Espiritismo had been incorporated

into Santeria, some wliite niiddle class i r ~ c l ~ ~ ~ ~ e i ~ J c i i t i . ~ t c ~ ~ r (those fighting for independence

from Spain) became attracted to Santeria and niore dissatisfied with the Catliolic Iiierarcliy

they could never penetrate. The Catholic Cliurch was dominated by the Spanisli-born

upper class and much of the rest of the population, including the white middle class. were

not at ease with the rigid, conservative, institutionalized Catholicism. Also. as noted

previously. tlirougliout mucli of the nineteenth century race and other issues had created

an ever-widening cleavage between the Church and State. The Church's influence over

04

the dominant culture of Cuba steadily decl ined and from 1 778 to 1 862 the nuinber of

practicinp clergy fell from 1,002 (wirli a ratio of one priest per 168 persons ) to 510 (a

ratio of one priest to 2,495 persons) (blaninez-Alier 1974: 55). New the end of tlir

nineteenth century many Cubans viewed the Church as an appendaçe of the Spanisli

monarchy which was economically draininç the island. Spanish domination. at this time.

began to appear unjiist and illegitimate to an increasinp number of white Cubans and

independence moveiiients began to arise.

Teii Yciirs W;ir (1 868- 1878)

The first independence movement in Cuba that resulted in a major civil war. known

as the Ten Years War, was initiated by planters in the eastem portion of tiie island. Tliey

rose against Spain in October 186s under the leadership of Carlos Manuel de Céspedes. a

plantation owner who freed his tliiny slaves by enrolling them into his army (Tlionias

1971: 245). The rebellion. which quickly gained force. involved a large pan of the niral

white popiilation of the Oriente (Cuba's largest and most eastern province). certain

landowners and small-scaie planters, sonie white professionais in urban areas in the east. a

great proportion of the free black population of the east, and some slaves. Two of the

major reasons for the insurrection were new taxes and customs iinposed on Cuba by the

Spanish government which weighed heavily on farmers, small-scale sugar planters. and

shopkeepers. and long-standing attitudes of nationalisrn held by many of the ruling classes

of the eastern side of the island (Scott 1985: 4 1).

lnitially opposition to slavery was not a major concern. although it soon became an

issue in the struggle against colonialism. A proclamation Céspedes issued on I O October

65

1868 whicli outlined his ambiguous attitude toward the abolition of slavery in t lie

beginnins stages of tlie revolt stated. "U'e only want to be free and equal. as the Creator

intended al1 iiiankind to be." He softened his position as one reads funlier. "We desire (lie

gradual. indemnified einancipation of slaves" (cited in Thomas 197 1 : 245). In fact. at the

onset of the rebellioii he decreed that anyoiie inducing slaves to rebel woulcl be piii to

deat h; slaves Iiad to have tlieir master's permission before being accepted inro the ariiiy.

Cespedes vacillated on tlie issue of einancipation until .4pril 1869 wlien the Revolutionary

Asseinbly, rejecting his leadership. decreed al1 slaves be einancipiited in the iiisurgent

territories and subsequently be considered /iho?os -- freed men and women. (Hely 1995

47; Scott 1985: 46-47). hlany of the white insurgent leaders, wlio were habitiiaicd to tlir

old social relationsliip of master and slave. viewed libenos as useful to the rebellion biit

potentially dangerous and. iii soiiie cases, tended to continue treating thein as slaves (Scott

1985: 50). As for the libertos. some refiised to take part in the revoliition and formed

small coniniunities in the hills. wliile others took tlieir grievances of iiialtreatnient to

revolutionaiy prefects for justice, altliough it may Iiave not been fonhcoiiiin~ (Scott los5

5 1-52).

The issue of abolition of slavery Iiad been siipported by some planters. prirnarily

from the east, since the late ISSOS and early 1 SGOs. But this support was mainly for

economic reasons. naniely that slavery was not cost effective. Althouçh largely i~nored hy

Spain, the 18 17 treaty between England and Spain to abolish the Cuban slave tradr.

guaranteeing the frerdom of Afncans found on captured slave ships. caiised enoiigh

disturbance in the ensiiinrl_ decades to increase the price of slaves entering Havana

66

(Bergad. Garcia and Barcia 1995: 38-78; Murray 1980: 27 1-299). In addition. new

alternative sources of labour emersed: a large number of unemployed vaprani Spanisli

whites were lured to the island by invitin2 laws (see page 40). given that the wliite Cuban

elite feared that Cuba was becoming 'Africanized' and they intended to balance ille white

and black population of Cuba (the Spaiiisli white population increased froin ten i~iillion iii

1800 to sisteen million in 1860). Tliere was nlso an influx of Chinese laboiirers. Tliese

kinds of labour appeaied to soine planters to be inore econoniical tban slavery brcaiise the

planters woiild not have to feed and care for free laboiirers durin2 the off seasons as t l i q

did with slaves (Thomas 197 1 : 184- 189). Conversely, many otlier Cubans. prinisrily

wliites from Havana and the western ponion of the island, had been against the

emancipat ion of the slaves since tlie beginning of the nineteenr h century . Here. in the

West, wliites employed the imagery of the Haitian Revolution ("brandishing the scarecrow

of the Haitian revoliition". as Aline Helg [1995: 191 poetically describes i r ) : whites beiny

killed and raped as revenge for abuse during slavery and blacks takinp over Cuba and

eventually dominating the entire Caribbean (Helç 1995: 47). The majority of Cubai1

planters, acting in their own interests. escliewed clianyes in Cuba's laboiir system.

supponing slavery and continued protection of tlieir propeny by Spain (Scott 19S.i- 40).

The above oiitlines Iiow the contlicr. even thoiigh it appears to have been berween the

Cuban-born o*<ro/c.s and the S panish-born pe~ti~rsrrlm*~.~~ was fouyht witli man' creoles

from the western ponion of Cuba fishtins for the side of Spain.

Céspedes. blamed for tactical errors resulting in rebel failures. was removed froni

leadership in absentia by military commanders from Guantanarno, Santiago. Holgiiin.

67

Jiçuani, Bayamo and Las Tunas. In Marcli 1874. he was killed in an ambush at San

Lorenzo (Simons 1996: 147). Before Céspedes had corne into disrepute, he

acknowledyed Afiican-Cuban Antonio Maceo as one of the rebellion's niost successfid

leaders declaring, "tlie son ofglory that is justly associated witli yoiir nanie and wliich is

confessed and recognized by ail" (Simons 19%: 147). As mentioned above. the

revolutionary army was not exempt from racism. and. rltliougli blacks and whites foiiglir

side by side. many wliites refused to obey orders from black coi~iitiandcrs. Discritiiinatioii

and prejiidice among conservative wliites in the independence moveiiient caused tlieii~ to

fear and loathe klacro's leadersliip of the Liberation Army. Some accused hiiii of black

racism and of attempting to establisli a black dictatorship in Cuba. In the latter pan of

1876, ofticen of the Liberation Arniy in Las Villas refused to accept his leadership

(Simons 1996: 149). Meanwhile. Spanish mit horities disorganized the separatists funlirr

by raisinç the issue of the Haitian Revolution that continued reinforcing whites' fear of

blacks (Helg 1995: 49). Maceo recognized that racism played a major roie in the defent of

the revolution (in May 1878) and also in the ensuing G I I L . ~ ~ Chi(priicr (Little War) whicli

broke out in August 1879 and ended nine months later; he continually recoiniiiended until

his deatli in 1896 ihat. for the sake of the separatist movement. tlie commander of the

Libemtion Army be white (Helg 1995: 19).

The Guerra Chiquita of 1879- l SSU took place mostly in the eastern province of

Oriente and was led by many of the Afro-Cuban panicipants in the Ten Years War.

principal among these. Antonio Maceo, who with 1500 men staged tlie Protest of Baragiia

in early 1878 to repudiate the Pact of Zanjon which ended the Ten Years War. As in the

68

Ten Years \hrar, the dominant Spanish elites in Cuba used their power and control over

inforinrition to treat the insurrection as a race war and again succeeded in dividing the

insursenrs. For instance. Guillernio Moncada. the Afro-Cuban insurgent leader. *as

described as "a 'large, ferocious' iiian wlio killed all whites wlio fell into his hantis.' (Ferrer

199 1: 40). According to Ada Ferrer. the presence of so many Afro-Cuban leaders sucli as

Moncada. hlaceo, hhceo's brother José, and Flor Cronibet, to nanie a few. served as a

catalyst for social change for slaves and galvanized their opposition to tlieir oppression

(1991: 44, j7-56).

The Ten Years LVar as well as the Guerra Cliiquiia tiad r draiiiatic niici lastiiig

impact on society. To begin witli, tliese wars encouraged the growtli of nationalisiii

resulting in the successful final war of independence in 1898, led by the f;iiiioris poet and

revolutionary José Mani. They both also esacerbated the racial barrier in the West

resulting in a heiglitened level of racisni. undermined the foundations of the doiiiinance of

the wliite elite in tlie east. set tlie stage for the abolition of daver).. and funlier divided

eastern and westerii Cuba. But. inost imponantly. the conflicts opetieci iip iirw avenues (if

resistance for t lie slaves.

The elites of bot11 tlie royalist and separatist sides durins the wars used tlie issue of

race in different ways. The Spaniards succeeded in dividing the insurrectioii bv portrayiiig

the war as a race \var and a tlireat to civilized society, while the wliite Ciibaii leaders of tlir

rebellion corroborated tlie Spanish allegations by claiming that they were in control and

would prevent the blacks from completely taking over (Ferrer 199 1 : 4 3 ) Tlie slaves. oii

the other hand. used the insurrection and "the 'climate of çeneralized conflict' to press

69

claims açainst tlieir owners and to assen more control over their daily work life while still

on the plantation" (Ferrer 199 1 : 44). Otlier slaves used tlie opponunity to flee their

bondap and set u p individual or maroon-style farming settlements in the interior (Ferrer

199 1 : 44-35).

Here we can see that the military efforts of t he Cuban separatist elite were

jeopardized because of the conflicting interests of the Spanish-born elite. More

imponantly. we see Iiow the larsest and niost oppressed of the siibordinate grotips in

Cuba used tliese insiirrections for their own purposes not only by taking advantaye of tlie

confusion of war wliich created newly opened spaces for resistance, but also by

appropriatins the langage of one of tlie dominant çroups. The Cuban separatist leaders

depended on the support of many free blacks and slaves as well as wlii te Cii bans. and tliis

put them in the ambivalent position of denying the opposition's clainis that the wars wcrc

race wars, but also never completely dismissing the notion of 'race wars' because of their

own racist fears and those of tlieir white recmits (Ferrer 199 1 : 42). Still. tliey espoused

egalitarian ideologies in their initial rhetoric. even though they attempted to temper it as

well (see Cepedes' declaration on page 65). Thus, the separatisi elite, at t lie same time as

serving tlieir own intrrests, attenipted to connect with the lived experiences of the

subordinate group. as well as confront the elite project of the Spaniards. Meanwhile. tlie

black niilitary leaders in the stniggle attenipted to stretch the focus of the conflicts froni

the 'narrower political' movenients of tlie white separatists to gain power of Cuba to

'broader social' ones by. for example, fighting for the equality of the races. Although they

failed to acliieve this in these struggles, their status in the war allowed them io enter inio

the discursive arena of tlie white elite separatists.

These wars also Iiad a çreat iiiipact on Santeria followers in Cuba. because it was

durinç and slionly after these wars, from 16GS to 1895, that Santeria followers

experienced the greatest repression from tlie colonial government As denionstrated

earlier, tlie Catholic Church's power and influence on the society steadily waned in tlie

nineteenth century and with it tlieir support of cabildos. The state b e y n to close ranks

ayainst al1 possible separation movements -- political parties, workers' organizntioiis. aiid

Africrn cabildos, wliicli they viewed as probable sources of insurrection (Brandon 1993 :

95).

Lete Niiicieeii t h Cent iiiy Repressioii

As demonstrated above, the Catliolic Cliurcli from the mid-eiglitrentli ceiii i iy oii

took a paternalistic and somewliat accommodating position concemin_« Santeria being

practiced in cabildos. The colonial yovernment's position regarciing Santeria. however.

was nmbigiious, contradictory and always in flux, wavering between tolerance and

repression. The reasons for this were iiumerous. One factor, for instance. wns tlie

personal predilections of the various captain-generals sent to Cuba as representatives to

Spain dunng tlieir tenrires tliere as proconsuls. Some captain-çenerals were more tolerant

toward Santeria followers than others. For example. Miguel Tacon, captain-general froni

1834- 1838, was sympatlietic toward Santeria practitioners and encoiiraged and even

sponsored some Afirican cultural activities. such as dances and religious cerenionies. But

this tolerant policy towards Santeria clianged shonly afier the Co~qt~i~~c~cir i t~ Jr. ki

ESCCIJ~I'CI of 1843,'' the arrest and torture of over 2,000 free blacks and over 1,000 slaves

7 1

in Mantanzas who allesedly conspired to instigate the uprising there a year earlier. At that

time. the then Captain-General O'Donnell banned al1 African religious cereiiionies. such as

those sponsored by Tacon (Thomas 197 1 : 199.205). Many questions have been raised

about whether La Escalera. a period of acute repression that continued for tialf a year. was

an actual rebellion or a fraud devised by Captain-General O'Donnell and Iiis agents as

justification for their rnethods of abusive colonial repression (Paqiiette 1988: 233).

Nevenheless. froni the 1860's and tliroiigti to tlie early 1930's. relations berweeii

practitioners of Sanreria and the yovernnient of Cuba steadily deteriorateci aiid cabildos

were suppressed. Many of die laws from tlie late eiphteent h century on t hroiiyh tlie

nineteenth century iiieaiit to regiilate tlie moral behaviour of Cuba's subjects and wliicli

contained sections wliicli liinited African cabildo functions, were now enforcecl with new

exactitude. This. 1 believe, was one of the inany contributing factors for driving the

worship of Santeria underground and for the element of secrecy iii its practices wliich

envelops the religion even today.

Laws passed in Cuba at the end of tlie eighteenth century and tlirou~lioiit the

nineteenth century which were intended to instill proper and moral behavioiir among i ts

citizens increasingly became such a encumbrance in the operations of cabildos that by the

early pan of the twentieth century the cabildos were driven underground. The 1792 Goocl

Government Law. for exaniple. bsnned cabildos from perfoniiin~ hneral rites. iniposed

fines for repeated offences of displaying Christian altan in conjunction with African

dances, and limited dances at cabildos to feast days and Sundays only before or after

Catholic mass. In 1 S 3 , in Mantanzas province, laws were enacted to restrict cabildos'

73

activities to the peripheral areas of cities. and in 1842 African cabildos' celebrations were

confined only to the annual Dici- de /os l h y ~ $ , the Epiphany celebration. By 1882 cabildos

were required to obtain annual licenses. I n 1884 even the Dia de los Reyes was banned

and four years later. in April I SSS. a disposition served by the governor general forbade al1

religious nireti ngs by al1 newly fornied cabildos. because the governor geiieral considered

that cabildos were losing tlieir character as religious ethnic mutual aid societies. and

becoming niore like social clubs. Tliereaftrr cabildos were witliout the protectioii of

religious status. siniilar to tavems and bars (Brandon 1993: 72. 82-3).

As a resiilt of al1 these restrictive iiieasures imposed by the governiiieiit on

cabildos. several cabildos died out completely. while others disappeared and were leyiilly

reestablished r k w years later. I t seems iikeiy tliat members of mnny of tliese resiirrectecl

cabildos practiced tlieir African religion but did so in secret while at the same time tliey

also continued to fiincrion as niutual aid societies. Fernando Oniz (cited in Brandon

1993 : 83) iiiiplies that tliis was the case, offering evidence regarding the C'~thi1rfo ,4ji+iccrrrn

Lttc~ttt~t. Oniz clainis that the Cabildo Africano Liicunii was reorganized as a iiiutiial aid

society in 1691 but died out at some point only to reappear in 1902 complete witli its

Santa Barbara's day iiiass and procession as it had practiced in the past. As Brandon

(1993: 63) points out, cabildos at this time probably served a vital role: the institution of

slavery which officially was decreed abolished in Cuba by the Spanisli Cortes (Parliaiiient)

on 7 October 1886. was being phased out over the next few years and there was Iikely a

movement of freed slaves from the countryside into the cities seeking Africans of tlieir

own descent and 'nation'.

Coiicliisio~i iiiid Siiii1iii;iry

Thus far we can see that tlie Szinteria 'traditions' (or the forniularion of what caii

be taken as a generalized version of Santeria that was continually being reshaped by social.

political and econoniic circumstances) were institutionalized in cabildos in the Havana

region under the aiispices of the Catholic Cliurch, yet were relatively isolated in the rural

regions during the years of slavrry. We have also seen that in tlie esrly t went ietli century

afier the institution of slrvery was yradiinlly disniantled. the cabildos brcanie iinder~rouiid

cult liouses. For the followers of Santeria. this period marks the combination of tliree

trends whicti infliienced the way the religion was practiced. I have already discussed two

of them and stated tlie results of tliose trends as: 1 ) the influence of Espiritisnio on

Santeria; and 2) the suppression of tlie cabildos coupled witli the retreat of the Catholic

Chiirch's protection of them. The t hird trend was that historicel transforniai ions of forces

outside of Cuba as well as inside Cuba resulted in political and econoiiiic problenis tliereby

increasinç racism in the western zones of Cuba. The main result of this trend was tliat it

exacerbated Santeria's secretive nature. Tliis third trend was bro~igtit on by racial tensioiis

that were aggravateci by political and economic instability as United States' interference in

Cuban affairs puslied it funlier toward political dependence and economic

underdevelopment.

Notes

1. For detailed studies of the inaccuracies of Cuban censuses and the motivations behind those 'errors' see KipIe (1976) and Perez ( 1984).

2. Afncan cabildos existed in Spain and Portugal as far back as the founeentli century, well before they ever appeared in Cuba. Thus. More1 de Santa Cruz was atteniptin~ to establish the Spanish mode1 in Cuba. In Spain, free blacks, slaves, as well as. in sonie instances, whites of lbenan stock, were grouped in cabildos, each represented by syinbolic colours, accordinç to members' occupations and ethnic oriçins. Not only did these groitps take part ii i religioiis festivals and parades bedecked in elaborate reglia and costuines. the cabildos were also mutual aid fraternities or brotlierhoods. For their inembers cabildos functioned as self-siipponing corporations wirh the responsibility of providing for their members' clothing. inrdicine, care for the elderly and infirm and arranging fiinerals for tlic dead (Brandon 1992 : 70; Klein 1967: 10 1 ; Mat ibag 1996: 22).

3. The classification of African people into tribes and distinct ethnic gotips lias been demonstrated in a nuinber of cases (see for example. Iliffe 1979; Ranger 1982: and Vail 1989) to have been a construction of the colonial European intellectual imagination "in order to define the cultural cliaracteristics of various ethnic çroups" (Vail 1989: I 1 ). Over time soine Africans have adopted these constructs and. as a result. tliink of tlieinsel\~es in European teims.

4. Although Santeria still predominates tlirouçhout Cuba. there exist different variations of other Mrican Cuban religions which sonietirnes include a person practicing more than one religion sirnultaneously. For esample, Emile. a Santero who I met in Santiago de Cuba. practices bot11 Santeria and Pa10 Monte.

5. Espiritiscno. a variant of spiritism. which was inte~rated into the esisting beliefs and practices of Santeria in the late 18008s, originated. in great pan. fron~ the beliefs of French Philosopher Hippolyte Leon Denizard Rivail. betrer known as Allan Kardec. Spiritism. i n a nutshell, sugsests that deceased monal spirits. existinç in a hierarchy. are forever seekiny light whicli can be attétined through a living medium. Once the spirit is invoked with this light (enlightenrnent) it can rise to the nest spiritual level (Pérez y Mena 199 1 : 4 I ).

6. The name escalera. or ladder, derives froin the Iadders to whicli the bIacks were tied and whipped, in many cases. to death. For a comprehensive analysis of the Conspiracy of' La Escalera see Roben L. Paquette's SII~LII ' ishictclr. i r i fh Bloud(198S). Paquette offers evidence that the 'conspiracy' actually existed as several conspiracies of distinctive cores of whites, pardos, inorenos, or slaves operatine between the years 184 1 and 1 844.

75

Chnpter 3 - Saiiteria and Social niid Political Changes in Tweiitietli Centitry Cuba

The last two chapters have taken us throuçh the complexities of the construction

and maintenance of social relations in Mrica, Spain and especially Cuba. In every instance

we have seen how local as well as global tensions create or break alliances of disparate

groups. In this final chapter race issues still dominate the discussion. With race as the

pivot the social dynamic affecting the history of Santena in Cuba in the twent ietli century

is the oscillation of the dominant society's attitudes between tolerance and repression.

Lnte Kiiieteeiitli aiid E:irly Tweii t iet li Ceiitii ry Racisni r iid Africs 11-Cu biiii Religioiis

As 1 have already noted in Chapter 2, by the end of the nineteenth century racial

tensions in Cuba escalated to enorrnous proportions. The reputation for the pattern of

increasingly harsh and public racial discrimination was confined to Havana and the western

sugar zones of the island. while the eastern portion. to a large degree. continued with

much the same socioracial structure that it had in the pre-1760 period (Brandon 1993 : 79-

80). The opposition to slavery near the end of the nineteenth century coincided with

sentiments of national autonomy durinç the wars of independence against Spain.

Rebecca Scott (1985) clearly demonstrates that slave emancipation in Cuba was a pradual.

arnbiguous and complex process involving a series of social, economic and legal

transformations that began witli the Ten Years War and persisted another eighteeii years.

For many Afican-Cubans and practitioners of Santeria, neither the abolition of slavery.

nor the successful War of Independence (the so called Spanish-American War. 1898-

1899) improved their living conditions. After slavery was abolished (the officia1 abolition

was decreed by the Spanish Cortes [Parliament] on 7 October 1886), Cuban society

76

continued to be deeply divided along racial lines and equality did not corne to African-

Cubans. Many white social theorists at the tirne advocated white supremacy and blamed

African-Cubans as the main cause of Cuba's problerns.

Aline Helg (1995) in her brilliant work on the African-Cuban struygle for equality

between 1886-1 9 12, arsues that it was during those years that the doininant classes of

Cuba contested racial equality with an ideolosy which stereotyped blacks as danprous

and justified their inferior position, in addition to disseminatiny the niyth of the existence

of racial equality throughout Cuba. Helg offers ample evidence to prove tliat the

constniction of three stereotypical images of blacks corresponded to the three levels of

fear of blacks that were needed for the collective and personal levels of imagination to be

transformed into what were perceived as actual social and personal dansers. These tliree

levels of fear were: 1 ) the fear of an African-Cuban conspiracy to establish a black

dictatorship in Cuba culminating in the massacre of whites (the Haitian scarecrow); 2) the

fear of Af'irican religion and culture beinç brought into white homes which would debase

"Western civilkation" with "African barbarism"; and 3) the fear of Afncan-Cuban

sexuality, the black male 'beast' rapist and the female black or mulatto seductress (the

latter image replacinç the image of the white rapist of black women - a common reality

up to the end of slavery). Helç's findings also point to a twofold myth of racial equality

between 1886 and 19 12 that was disseminated by the Cuban elite. First was the myth tliat

it was the masters who freed their slaves duhg the Ten Years War, which suggested that

blacks ouçht to grateful to whites for their fieedom and also that whites, because of their

'generous act'. should not be obligated to cornpensate or accept any blame for the

77

mistreatment of blacks in the past. And. second. was the idea that racial equality was won

by the white Cuban military defeat of the Spaniards. without taking into account the

overrepresentation of African-Cubans in the war (compared with the rewards of society

that were denied to them after the war).

Helg principally focuses on both tlie military involvement of the African-Cubans i n

the Liberation Army that is estiniated to Iiave been 65 per cent of tlie rank and file (see

Thomas 1971 : 5 14; Chapman 1927: 3 10) and M'can-Cuban political action penaining to

the formation and development of the PCIIVI~O iirdet>o~dici~/o de Cab*. Helg's work is

not only useful to t his analysis because it fun her demonstrates how S anteria practi tioners

mobilized self-directed responses ayainst the almost peremptory constraints on their lives.

but her work also offers many documented cases of the white Cuban construction of

images of the followers of Sanreria and other Mrican-Cuban religions (wliich many whites

in Cuba ofien characterized as Santeria) as those who should be feared.

One of the more interesthg incidents Helg (1 995: 108- 1 16) writes about is the

kidnapping and murder of Zoila. a twenty-month-old girl, who was first reponed inissing

from her parents'fitm (ranch) near Havana. on 1 I November 1904. Zoila was found

without a hean and entrails. Fifieen African-Cubans, aIl illiterate with no criminal records.

but a11 acquainted with each other through their membership at the cabildo Congo Real,

were arrested. AI were accused of murdering Zoila for the sake of using her blood. Iiean

and entrails in a 61~$~ic t (witchcraft) curing ceremony. Four of the accused were

acquitted, two were sentenced to death and were garrotted, two were çiven life terms

(one with hard labour), and three received sentences rançinç from six to fourteen years.

According to Helg. it is impossible to determine the guilt or innocence of the accused.

because the evidence was weak and circumstantial.

What I fmd more fascinating than the defendants' guilt or innocence, iiowever. is

how the mainstream newspapers in Cuba exploi?ed this occurrence in order to disseminate

fears of African-Cuban religions and their practitioners with journalistic stereotyping. The

national press increasingly rnagnified tlie story of tlie murder on a daily basis and

eventually began to linger on the theme that this was not an esceptional crime. but. ratlier,

a common occurrence, warniny that every Cuban family was in danger of flesli-eat ing,

blood-drinkinç, child-killing. white vigin-raping, black demons and sorcerers. For

instance, EI M~/t iJo a daily newspaper from Havana ( 190 1 - 19 19). on 1 S November 1901

reported,

the disappearance of children in the countryside is not uncornmon. but is not reponed. no doubt for fear olrevenge. Country brujos are very bestial: when they steal children they ride horses to seize their victims and tliey carry large baskets in which they put tliem in order to cover them with bags and suffocate them rapidly (cited in Helg 1995: 11 1).

And on 3 Decemberl904,

... in a situation really close to barbarism, with its dark and disastrous consequences for civilization. thus for morality and justice ... [it is necessary to] ... extirpate from the root this terrible moral disease that, like a sinister disaster of barbarian times, corrodes riçht in the twentieth century the consciousness of a portion of our population, which, perhaps because of the wicked law of atavism sinks into the depths of depravity and closes its eyes to the l i~ht [of civilization] (cited in Helg 1995: 112).

With Heiç's exarnple of the dominant society's efforts to discredit al1 followers of Mrican-

Cuban reli~ons as dangerous. it is not surprisiny that. for most of the twentieth century,

Santeria became a secretive religion. Still, a veil of secrecy had accornpanied Santeria

79

during the slave era in the plantations and the cities protectinç practitioners from slave

masters and the police. Moreover. in Nigeria. before the orisha-worship came to Cuba,

the priesthood employed secrecy to separate t hemselves from the laity. thus giving the

priests distinctive types of power (Brandon 1993: 156). The element of secrecy in

Santeria, tlien, represents both continuity and change -- continuously pan of the practice

of worship and changing becaiise of the varied reasons it was employed tliat were related

to different social. economic and political circuinstances (ibid) .

What 1 also find intriguing about Helç's example is the power and the longevity 01'

these constmcted rnyths. A Cuban friend of mine. Mario Masvidal, told me in May of tliis

year (19%) that when lie was yrowing up as a child in Havana before the 1959 revolutioti.

neitlier he nor any of his friends were allowed out by tlieir parents to play on Santeria

ceremonial celebration days for fear that they would be kidnapped by santero brujos.

Aniericaii Iiitenteiitioiiisni

The presence of the American rnilitary in Cuba first occurred in various

occupations between 1 899 and 1909. Other United States military interventions took

place between the years 19 17 and 1922. The initial occupation during the Spanish-

American War took place shonly afier the United States battleship hiitiiltc sunk in Havaiia

harbour on 15 Febniary 1898 as the result of an explosion, the source of which has never

been determined. Much of the American press had been pnming the American public for

war against Spain in Cuba and the sinking of the MctMe. presumabiy by Spain. finally led

to political action. On 1 i April 1899. President McKinley asked for a declaration of war

and the Congres granted him authorkation to terminate the war in Cuba. The war only

so

lasted anotlier four months (MacGaffey and Barneir 1962: 12).

By 1898 the Cuban Liberation Army had already freed its rural areas of Spanish

control before the United States entered the war. Subsequently. Cuba. in effect. never

çained its aiitonomy, but became a dependent of irs ally in the war ayainst Spain.

Acceptance of the Platt Aniendment (named after U.S. Senator Orville Platt) as pan of the

Cuban constitution of 190 1, permitting the United States to intervene in Cuba wlienever

order was threatened. drastically impaired Cuban sovereignty. Not only was Ciiba's

political sovereignty at risk, but its econoiiiic autonomy was also tlireatened. since the

Amendment also was ineant to protect American investments in Cuba. Also jeopardizins

Cuban sovereignty was the Reciprocity Treaty of 1903, a tariff'pact wliicli gave Ciiban

sugar privileged status in the American niarket. This resulted in making the Ciiban

economy almost entirely dependent on sugar production and the United States (Pérez-

Stable 1993: 4; MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 15).

The sugar economy was, at this tinie, going through a transition which involved

the demise of srnall farms and the florescence of large. efticient, aggressive sugar

producers. A shon while before the United States politically intervened. the Cuban sugar

industry had already begun to concentrate production into large sugar mills. or cc~~nolev.

United States economic interventionism exacerbated this process. Arnerican businessmen

who ~ained increased control and ownership of the centrales, began to speed up the

consolidation of the mills. The mills were kept in operation by seasonally hired rural

proletarians (as Sidney Mintz calls them [1961: sx~vii]). For the rural proletarian labourer

working in sugar production in Cuba, lorig penods of hunger accompanied the off season.

s 1

or r i c n p irriterm. The rural proletariat was made up of former rural slaves. Cliinese

contract labourers, Amerindians from the Yucatan Peninsula and black niigrant workers

€rom Haiti and the British West Indies (Wolf 1969: 557; Brandon 1993: 79).

Not only did United States interventionism contribute to the developrnent of tlie

rural proletariat in Cuba. but it also. in an indirect way, reinforced urbardrural and

east/west divisions. Besides the divisions between east and west in Cuba tl~ere l~ad beeii

developing, since the diiys of slaver).. great socio-economic disparities between iirbaii and

rural living standards (primarily between Havana and the western siigar zones as well as

eastern rural areas) wliich played an imponant pan in the success of Fidel Castro's

revolution in 1959 (see below). By the 1920's Cuba's dependence on the United States

became funher entrenched because as land and labour were more devoted to sugar tlierr

was less Ieft for subsistence farn~ing and Cuba was forced to impon food as well as

manufactured goods and capital from the United States. now Cuba's main trading panner.

Vast fortunes were made by the Cuban economic elite and American businessrnen. while

at the same time, the rural proletariat, especially the mral blacks in the western s u g r

zones, remained destitute. Much of the wealth stayed in Havana where niany of the

weaithy white elites lived.

Afro-Cii banisiii iii t lie 1920's iiiid 1930's

Foreign ownership, particularly by US. citizens. of vast tracts of Cuban land in tlie

early pan of the twentietb century had two political effects. Fim. the old Cuban Creole

oligarchy. tempted by the gea t profits to be made if they sold their mills, increasingly

disappeared from the power structure. The second political effect was, in pan. a response

s2

to the loss of Cuban control of the means of production: an increase in nationalisin. Tliis

increased nationalist sentiment wliich was manifested in an identification witli the people --

the miIl workers, the blacks, /os htrnrilrl~ov -- came to be known as the Afro-Cubanisin

movement. Throughout the 1920s and 1930s. the Afro-Cubanism movement. made up of

white and mulatto intellectuals. writers, poets, artists, and musicians. focused its attentioii

on the contributions made by blacks to Cuban folklore, art, music. dancing. and rliytliiii.

The Afro-Cubanism movenient was infliienced by the aestlietic priiiiitivist anistic trei~tls

which reevaluated African and African American culture and tliat were eiiianatiiiy froiii

Europe and the United States around the 1920's (Brandon 1993: 90; Thomas 197 1 : 60 1 -

602). As a result, Cuban middle-class intellectuals. largely isnored before. hund

themselves dininj at the same tables with the modernist European avant-garde. paid for by

the syrnbols that they appropriated €rom the lower class blacks: synibols the Ciiban

middle-class intellectuals ponrayed as esotic. irrational and primitive.

One of the movement's foundinç fathers. Fernando Onir produced works on

Cuban history, ethnography, linguistics, archaeoloçy, law and polit ics. Surprisingl y.

Oniz's early work centered on racial theorizing that used similar incendiary black

stereotyping to man' writers in the mainstream press in the first decade of the twentietli

century. In these writinçs. Oniz, then workiny as a criminoloçist. focused on the

connection between blackness and crime using African-Cuban religions including Santeria

and brujeria which he argued were "centers of infection'' (Ortir 1906: 366). He declared

that "[fletishism is in the mass of the blood of the black Africans" and contaminated al1

Afro-Cubans as well as some lower class white Cubans (cited in Helg 1995: 1 12- 1 12).

s -3

His ultimate aim was to eradicate African religion from Cuba by keepinç brujos of African

oriçin in isolation for the rest of tlieir Iives and conf scating al1 Santeria instruments and

sacred objects. destroying the majority and collecting the most consequential items in a

museum (Helg 1993: 1 12). Althouçh oiher Afro-Cubanists, such as poet Nicolas Guillén.

novzlist Alejo Carpentier, composer Amadeo Roldan. and painter Wilfred Lani, respected

Ortiz for his valuable systematic account of Afro-Cuban culture and Afro-Cuban reli,' tr~ous

beliefs, myths. and rites. tliey disagreed with Iiis positivist liberal reforniist stance that

envisioned the eventual termination of African culture in Cuba. The identiry tliey

proposed for the island, in contrast. was a composite multicultura1, multiracial identity in

which the African-Cuban was central (Brandon 1993: 92)

Mro-Cubanism in the early pan of the 1920s was relegared to the literary scene as

well as showing up in concen music and the visual arts. Later. from 1926 to 1938, it

flourished. producing many scholarly works in recently established jouriials. Much of this

work, based on participant observation of the folklore and religious lives of African-

Cubans, brought many middie-ciass whites and mulattos into contact with Santeria.

However, by 1940 Afro-Cubanism could no longer be considered a distinct movement

but had become an element absorbed into the vault of Cuban intellectual life (Brandon

1997: 92-93).

Politics and Society iii Cuba iii the 1930's - 1950's

The two major political parties of the Cuban eiite from the time the United States

withdrew from Cuba. on 38 January 1909 (José Mani's binhday), to the revolution of

1933, were the Liberals and the Conservatives. Politicians in the upper echelons of each

84

Party, however. tended to shifl their allegiances according to the advantages they corilci

çlean fron~ one or the other pany. For example, Alfredo Zayas was a Liberal vice-

president under Jose hliguel Gomez from 1920- 1924. then became president froin 1 910-

1924 as a Conservative. Later, Zayas gave his support to Gerardo Machado ( 1974- 1933).

a Liberal.

Machado's ratlier lençthy term in office was frauglit witli diflïculties. In Iiis

endeavours to cernent relations between Washington and the Cuban elite and to defend

foreiçn capital he unrelentingly repressed popiilar unrest. Moreover. becaiise of the suyar

crisis of tlie 1910's tliat transpired when Cuban interests clashed witli the siiynr beet

industry in the mid-west United States. Cuban unemployrnent increased, diversification

was stunted, standards of living fell and per capita income decreased (Pérez-Stable 1993:

39; Thomas 197 1 : 557).

Machado was elected in 1914 promisinç honest government and only a single tenii

of office, but once in office, he achieved constitutional amendments through a coalition of

the Conservatives and Liberals known as coopcr<rtivisnio, which lengihened tlie

president's tenn to six years. He silenced his opposition by either assassinatins or

deponing a nurnber of political opponents. labour leaders and students critical of his

regime. The University of Havana became the focal point of opposition. but Machado. in

1930, declared martial Iaw and closed tlie university alonç with ail the hiph scliools and

normal schools. The schools remained closed until he was forced from office in 1933 when

his amy cornmanders withdrew their support when Machado was threatened witli United

States intervention (MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 19-20). Machado left for the Bahamas

85

on 12 August 1933 (Pérez-Stable 1993: 40).

Siibsequen t 1 y. leadership of Cuba was divided among tlie Cabinet-appoinied Carlos

Manuel de Céspedes (son of the Ten Years War Céspedes) and promineni inembers of the

secret revolutionary çroup ABC (an acronym that was and remains mysterious [Anton

Allahar, personal communication 22 August 19981). Céspedes was narned president.

The ABC çroup, headed by the leaders of a radical çroup of students and professors.

Ramon Grau San Manin and Antonio Guireras. was a fractured orpnization aiicl

Céspedes was indecisive. United States Ainbassador Sumner Welles was loo king for

possible alternatives to Céspedes. It was in tliis confusion rhat a group of arniy sergeants

led by Fulçencio Batista stepped into tlie fray and supponed the formation of a Grau-

Guiteras çovernment. Tliis government, wliich passed laws on mininium wayes and an

eiçht hour work week. called for Cuban control over economic and political life ( ( ' t h

parn los Cr/bc~rtos), and supponed social justice and equality for the black population.

lasted only four months in office. United States President Roosevelt wirlilield diplornatic

recognition and Welles was again forced to find a replacement more congenial to United

States interests (Pérez-Stable 1993 : 40; MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 19-20).

Ambassador Welles cailed on Batista and toyether they collaborated to oust G r a ~

from power. Between 1934 and 1959. with a lapse of eight years between 1944 and 1952.

the army Ied by Batista and the new oficer corps wielded the real political power in Cuba.

As army chief of staff from 1934 to 1940. Batista had more political power than the

'puppet' presidents who held office during those years, and from 1940 to 1944. he was

president. He then reappeared to take power in a cottp d'dm in 1952. afier which he

86

remained as a veritable despot until overthrown by Fidel Castro in 1959 (Pérez-Stable

1993: 43; MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 2 1 ).

In 1934, Batista neçotiated the abrogation of the Platt Amendnient witli

Roosevelt, ending United States meddling in the everyday lives of Ciibans; on the other

hand, Batista oversaw a new sugar agreement with the United States wliich tied Cuba

even more closely to the U.S. and dependence on U.S. goods, in place of encoiiraging tlie

manufacture of the goods in Cuba. Many in Cuba, however, were not plrcated by tlie

former, and Batista had to contend with several general strikes and uprisinps du14ng 1934

and 1935. With Colonel Mendieta as the provisional 'puppet' president. Batista

responded with force, ending a strike with a yreat deal of sliootiny, killing some studenrs

who were threatening United States propeny in the Oriente. It was also in 1935 tliat

Batista forces assassinated Antonio Guiteras as lie iittempted to leave the country (Perez-

Stable 1 993 : 42; Tliomas 1 97 1 : 694-695).

Batista became president of Cuba in 1940 after lie won an election on a platforni

which promised a three year plan of reorganization of the tas structiire. stabilization of tlie

peso and neutrality in World War II. Before the election. however, the Constituent

Assembly came forth with the Constitution of 1940 that was framed by the previous

administration. Tlie Constitution was an attenipt at social democracy, lepitiiniziny the

riçhts of labour. Batista remained president until 1944 and did not seek reelection. as

required by the constitution. From 1944 to 1952 the administrations of Grau San Manin

and Prio Socarras from the Auténtico party made sorrie efforts toward economic and

political reforms, but there was little improvement in public order, the prevalence of

S7

govemmental çrafi. or the use of government patronage (Pérez-Stable 1 993 : 42). Both

of these presidents were beliolden to a group of gang leaders who had tlieir own privare

armies to protect their areas of çraft and privilege (Suciilicki 1990: 123).

Rural Cuba iii the 1930s to 1950s

At the same rime that al1 this political turmoil was occurring in Havana, in the rural

areas of Cuba the sliifi from individual to corporate ownership and great lancled estates

(centrales or lu/if,trrtlirr) replacing the small-scale plantations and small-scale jrindiny

mills, wliich began in the last decades of the nineteenth centiiry (see page S 1 ). had. by tlie

1950s. rendered the ri~ral upper class insiçnificant. Most of the estates were nianageci by

professionals representing absentee foreign owners or corporations. Tliere was also a

reduction in the sire of the middle class as well as the level of independence of the niiddle

class as a result of the decline of small-scale investnients in distribution and service

industries which were handicapped by the mono-crop economy (sugar) and limited by the

predominance of large enterprises (MacGafEey and Barnett 1962: 40). Four companies

owned about twenty-five per cent of Cuban land: the Cuban-American Sugar Company;

the Cuba Cane Sugar Company; the General Sugar Company and its dependents; and the

United Fruit Company. Since World War One American-owned rnills accounted for about

half of Cuba's production and about fifty-six per cent in 1940. In addition, between the

years 1925 and 1950. sugar dominated the Cuban econorny to such an extent tliat

fluctuations in the world prke of sugar influenced other enterprises because the doniestic

finns depended on sugar expons to cover the costs for imported fuel and macliinery

(Nelson 1950: 97).

ss

All of this created an immense arnount of wealth wliicli was inanifest in the rise of

a wealthy class of entrepreneurs in the sugar. banking. railway. and electrical industries.

The majority of tliese entrepreneurs took up residence in elaborate homes in tlie suburbs

of Havana which they had built for themselves. Many other classes. Iiowever. sufiered as

this new entrepreneurial class made gains. The hardest hit were the peasants In some

situations wliere peasants with small faniily owned land could show title. the sugar

companies purcliased the land, but more often the only recourse for the peasatits was to

have the cotins decide land conflicts -- a venue where the Company lawyers who knew aiid

had cornrnand of the loopholes in Cuban land laws had the ovenvhelrning advantage. The

expansion of the latifiindia also broiight about the sale and subdivision of the coiiimuniil

haciendas from whicli previously a large number of peasants were able ta eitsiire a censin

rneasure of economic security in their peso^- de po.w.~iciu. AS a result of these

developments a new, l a r ~ e and steadily increasing çroup of landless farm people were

created. The major ponion of the rural population. then, was made up of the lower class

c~nipesh/c)~ or g~trrc~jji*o.s (peasants) as well as thep*cccirr.srcrs (squatters). Xlanp of these

precaristas were what was known in Cuba as JCSCI/OJU.S - people wlio Iiad been dislodyecl

from farms that were or became tlie propeny of sorneone else. Most of the riiral peasants

were dependent on the large sugar enterprises (Nelson 1950: 20.95-97; MacGaRey and

Bamett 1962: 30).

Seasonal labour patterns continued to mirror those that existed at the turn of the

century (see discussion of the rural proletariat on pages 8 1-82). The sumnier iiiontlis. the

time in which sugar cane was growing, was a period of relative inactivity for much of the

89

Cuban mral labour force. The most activity took place in the intervening montlis betweeii

January and June during the zojw (cane harvest). The rernainder of the time was

considered tiempo mueno - a period in whicli tliere was a great deal of unernploytnent in

the rural labour force. The dead season for the coffee labourer was niucli tlie same as i t

was for the sugar labourer. Sugar was grown throu~hout the island (albeit heavily

concentrated in the west) and the major coffee-producing sections were tlie ~iiountainoiis

areas such as the Sierra Maestra in the Oriente. The 1943 census. which \vas taken diiriiig

the tiempo mueno. reponed tliat out of labour force of 1.52 1,000 only 665.000. or a litrit.

more than Iialf, were employed (Nelson 1950: 44).

Batistii Rctiii*iis to Power

Batista returned to power on 10 March 1952 in a bloodless ccmp t l 2 ~ iindertaken

wiien he becarne convinced tliat Iie would not be able to win the election. He proniised

new elections would be held. but not before Novernber 1953. and until tlien. al1 political

- panies would be suspended. The conventional bourgeoisie (Iccs clc~.sc'.~ e c ~ ~ ~ / ( h i c m ) of

Cuba encouraged the new regime, but most citizens reacted witli inditference (Pérez-

Stable 1995: 52). The majority of resistance came from the students. Otlier potential

çroups of resistance failed to mount a united front; the opposition political parties.

Auténticos and Onodoxos, were divided and unorganized and the comrnuiiists aiid the

Catholic Church bot11 remained ambivalent in theit attitudes toward Batista (Thonias

197 1 : 792-793; Pérez-Stable 1993: 52-53)- However. one 27 year-old lawyer and

member of the Ortodoxo pany named Fidel Castro was outraçed and presented a legal

brief in the Court of Appeais in Havana which demanded Batista be imprisoned for

90

violating the constitution. The court turned down his request and shortly tliereafter Castro

Ied an armed insurrection in an attempt to bring an end to Batista's dictatorship.

Fidel Castro and the Revolutioii

Fidel Castro was raised in the eastern portion of the island on his father's sugar

hrrciotdci. nanied hlanacas, which was located near the municipality Mayari in tlie territory

of Oriente. Castro's early childhood impressions were formed in ille Oriente wliicli. at tlie

tirne, had the least number of professionals (doctors. lawyers. etc.) per capita in Ciiba: \vas

the area of Cuba wliere gun-law oflen prevailed: and was the area where Uiiited States

influence was the stronpst and niost brutally exercised. The son of Angel Castro. a

wealthy sugar fariner who was able to comfortably nesotiate his way throiiyli the

depression of tlie late 1920's and early IgXYs, younç Fidel received a Jesilit education.

Fidel developed a rebellious attitude ar an early age, ofien quarreling witli tiis fatlier.

In1940, when he was only thirteen years old. he tried to organize a strike of siigar workers

against his fatlier. In 1945 he began classes at tlie University of Havana. eventiially

choosirg to study law and imrnersing himself in political activity (Tlioinas 197 1 : SOI-809).

At dawn on 16 July 1953, afier the night of a Santeria carnival. Castro aiid 165

other Cubans attacked the Moncada Barracks in Santiago de Cuba in the easterniiiost

province of Oriente, as well as the Bayarno Barracks (Pérez-Stable 1993: 45. 53;

MacGaffey and Bamett 1967: 19-20). Many of those who took pan in the attack were

men of the lower middle class or working class. and only a few were from the Oriente.

Their ages ranged from less tlian twenty to older than forty with the majority being

between twenty and thiny. And, judging from photoçraphs, it appears that perhaps a

9 1

maximuni of twenty five of the rebels were black (Thomas 1971 : 824-825). The attacks

on hloncada and Bayamo both failed. In the batrle. about eighty of the combatants were

brutally tonured and killed a day or two after they were captured. At Bayarno, tliree of

the prisoners were drasçed for miles behind a jeep. Some who managed to escape aiid

hold out for a few days in the forest before being captured were imprisoned (Thoiiias

197 1 : 838). Castro, one of the irnprisoned, conducted himself with conipassion. inregrit).

and dignity and sumniarized his political program of national reforiii at Iiis trial. His

charismii captivated the popular ima~ination of many Cubans as he issiied a stateinenr

proclaiminç that he wouid accept no judjement other than history: "Condeinn me. it does

not matter. History will absolve me" (Bonactiea and Valdés. 1972: 31 1 ).

Batista called elections in 1954, from which. running unopposed. lie emerged

victorious. He niade sonie concessions and allowed rnost political parties to resunie tlieii-

activities. More imponantly, however, is that Batista. believing that his political position

was stronç enough to afford it. crlled for a general amnesty and released al1 political

prisoners including Fidel Castro. Castro resumed his oppositional activities and \vent into

esile. Castro and Iiis followers were freed on May 15, but he only stayed in Cuba anotlier

two months. havins decided to go to Mexico to form and train a disciplined giierrilla troop

to attempt to ovenhrow Batista by force. Castro's brotber Raul and some others from the

movernent were aiready settled in some rented houses in Mexico City and had become

acquainted with Ernesto (Che) Guevara, a young doctor from Argentina, witli wliotn

Castro t a s to plan the subsequent stage of the Cuban Revolution. They also borrowed a

farm called Santa Rosa situated about twenty miles outside of Mexico City wliere the

training was held. Castro raised money for the Mexican establishments tliroic~li donatioi~s

from syinpatliizers in Mexico, sonie exiled Onodoxo mernbers living in the United States.

and Romulo Betancourt, a Venezuelan exile. Another financial backer was one-tirne

Cuban President Carlos Prio Socarras. now esiled and living in the United States. Prio

sent Castro $50.000 in Auçust with the promise of sending anotlier S50,000 Inter. Witb

Prio's money, Castro purchased a yacht, the Gru~rnin, from an Aniericaii couple iia~i~ecl

Erickson, for the price of $15,000 U.S.

In August 1955, Fidel Castro and the July 26 Moveinent (so nanied after the atiack

on the Monocada Barracks in 1953) issued their manifesto to the people of Cuba:

The Cuban Revolution does not compromise with groups or persons of any son .... [I]t will never regard the state as the booty of a triumphant group ... . [W]e assume before history responsibility for our actions. And in making our declaration of faith in a happier world for the Cuban people, we tliink like Mani that a sincere man does not seek where his advantage lies but where his duty is, and that the only practical man is the one whose present dream will be the law of tomorrow (Bonachea and Valdés 1972: 270-27 1 ) .

On 25 Noveinber 1956, Fidel Castro and eiçhty-one other men from tlie July 36

Movement lefi Tuxpan. Mexico for Cuba on the Granma (MacGaRey and Barnett 1962:

236; Thomas 197 1 : 676-893). Packed aboard the overloaded vessel were, aniong otliers.

twenty people who had been involved with the MoncadaBayanio attack and four non-

Cubans: Guevara from Argentina. Gino Doné, an Italian. Guillén, a Mexican. and tlie pilot.

Ramon Mejias del Castillo, a Dominican. Their transit to Cuba took eight days due to

navigational dificulties. and instead of landinç at the good landinç site of Niquero where

they had friends waiting to help them, they landed near Las Coloradas de Belic. a swanip

with thick undergrowth. The problems with direction bode il1 for the rebel group. Fint.

93

the landing was pan of a coordinated action which involved the çroup taking Niquero and

advancing on Manzanillo while a çeneral uprising took place in Santiago. This was no

longer possible. Funhermore, landing in a swamp made it impossible to unload al1 of the

ammunition and weapons.

Soon the Granma was spotted by air and in another short wliile a naval friyate

moved in and staning shooting at the abandoned yacht. When they finally reached solid

çround tlie men were wesk, dispirited and Iiunçry. They nier various peasants. niany of

whom were friglitened and fled as the rebels approaclied. but otliers were syi~ipatlietic;

some gave blessings to the Virsen del Cobre for them while others. like Ansel Pérez.

offered to share their food with the rebels (ludson 1984: 1 10; Thomas 197 1 : 897). A few

days later the rebels were surprised by Batista's aircrafi and troops on the edge of a cane

field. About twenty-four of the rebels were killed in the first encounter. while meny otlieir

were forced to surrender. But some of the rebels escaped: Castro and two otliers Iiid i n a

cane field for a few days sucking on sugar cane and eating food brouglit to theni by

peasants. Local peasants Guillermo Garcia. Cresencio Pérez (a leader of a yroup of

prcc*ctri.s~c~s, -squatters') and Manuel Fajardo joined the rebels and led theni to the safety

of the Sierra hlaestra where they reassembled with some of their compatriots froin the

Granrna. Only fifteen of Castro's original group remained together (Simons IQ96: 276:

Thomas 197 1 : 894-90 1 ).

What son of social environment did the rebels find themselves in during tlie initial

stages of the revolution? Statistics of regional population distribution in a twelve year

period between 195 1 and 1943 show that there was a gradua1 shift of the centre of the

94

population toward tlie eastern end of Cuba, witli the province of Oriente Iiaving a

population of about one million people in 1943. The province of Havana (wliich in

essence is the urban sprawl of Havana City), however, shows a similar increase wliich also

indicates rapid urbanization during this period. In Cuba. at this time. tlie only cliance for

social advancement for many people was to niigrate to the city and abandon the riiral

economy (Nelson 1950: 3 1; MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 40). By 1953. tlie populatioii

continued to increase in Havana as well as in the Oriente. Urban growtli at tliis tiiiie,

however, cannot be attributed to the development of heavy industries. Ratlier. it was a

combination of rural dwellers being forced off tlieir land that was being increasinsly

concentrated in the hands of tlie owners of t he liuge centrales and the fact t liai labourers

were attracted to the cities by the expectation of better wages (MacGaffey and Barnett

1962: 44-45). As mentioned above (page 8 1). tliere was also a çreat influx of tlie wenlthy

entrepreneurial class to Havana and otber urban centres. As a result, the western urban

area of Havana was stratified wit h distinct class differentiations, whereas the Oriente

featured priniarily peasants, of whom the precaristas, or squatters, made u p the iiiajor

portion of the population (Thomas 1971 : 906). In addition, there were grest differences in

living standards between Havana and the Sierra Maestra.

Wliile Havana. in the 1950's. was enjoyinp relatively hiçh standards of living, the

rest of Cuba, tlie rural areas in panicular. were sufferin~ many social ills such as hiyli

unemployment and underemployment, major liealth problems, a hi& degree of illiteracy.

and poor housini.. A 1957 report by the Catholic University Association highliçhts this

urbadmral discrepancy in the standard of living:

Havana is living an extraordinary prosperity while rural areas. especially waçe workers. are living in unbelievably stagnant. miserable. and desperate conditions.. . . It is tinie that our country cease beinç the private fiefdom of a few powerful interests. We firmly hope that, in a few years. Cuba will not be the proyeny of a few, but the true homeland of al1 Cubans (cited i i i

Pérez-Stable 1 993: 3 1).

Given this çreat disparity in the standard of living between Havana and the rural Sierra

Maestra reçion of Cuba. i t is little wonder tliat the çreatest discontent witli the

socioeconomic conditions of Cuba would be experienced by tliose living in the Sierra

Maest ra.

By the time Castro was fighting in the Sierra hlaestra. in 195S, tlie area was as

poor as it had ever been and the population of peasants wlio had been displaced from their

land had ballooned to enormous proponions. Most of the people who lived tliere were

precanstas - squatters without security or title to tlie land, even though some campesinos

or çuajiros (peasanrs) also lived there. Even though precaristas made up only eiylit to ten

per cent of the entire Cuban farmer population, over two-fifths of tlieni lived in the

Oriente. Tliey nearly al1 lived in hohios. a dwellinç built almost entirely froiii niaterial

provided by the royal palm tree. with din floors. Over half the population of the Oriente

were iliiterate and their only chance at employment was working on large estates (witli

their conconiitant seasonal opportunities and problems). Running water. electricit. baths.

refriçerators were practically unknown in this area. The area was fairly balanced between

black and white people. Some members of both races practiced Santeria (Judson 1983:

1 19; Boncliea and San Martin 1974: 132). The population at Pilon (also a sugar mill).

located along the soutli Coast, was 2,500, but othenvise there was no other place with a

96

population of more than 1.000 people anywhere in the Sierra Maestra. There were no

roads along the soutli coasr where the Sierra Maestra meets the sea and man' of the

coastal conimunities and military outposts were only accessible by boat.' Sugar and

coffee latifiindia were located in the eastern and western areas of the iiiountaiiis and sonie

latifundia owned by cedar and rnahogany esponers were confined to the line of tlie rivers.

The bulk of these large estates were managed by ntcpwdes, whose task it was to keep the

precaristas away from their employers' land which sometiines led to giintir<_lits. hoiise-

burnings and killinys tliat ofien escalated with reprisais (Thomas 197 1 : 901-908; Nelson

1950: 202; MacGaffey and Barnett 1962: 42).

Accordinç to Paul Baran ( 196 1 ). Eric Wolf ( 1969) and Sidney Mintz ( 1964). the

majority of the campesinos earned a bare siibsistence waçe workiny in t lie big siiyar.

tobacco, and coffee plantations only a few months of tlie year. Less than one-founh oftlie

population were individual cultivators and only a fraction of these owned the lanci tliat

they tilied; the rernainder were sharecroppers, tenants. subtenants. or precarista squatters.

Alt hough the entire peasantry of late 1950's Cuba was varied, rançing from sniall land-

owners, rural proletarians, to precaristas, it was the precaristas who made iip tlie major

portion of the population in the Sierra Maestra (Thomas 197 1: 906: MacGafièy and

Barnett 1962: 41). Baran contends that because there was no "middle peasantry" stratuni

of peasant proprietors. few people in the Sierra Maestra were aware of the bourgeois

ideology of the state which existed in Havana (196 1 : 12). Moreover, he claims t h ,

among the peasants living there. there existed "relatively little social differentiation and

relatively çreat degree of social cohesion" (Baran 196 1 : 1 1 - 13). Baran's assenion rests

97

on his makinç the same point as Mintz (see page 8 1). that uniike sorne of the 'classical'

peasantry of Japan, China. pre-revolutionary Eastern Europe, and some pans of Latin

America, whose livelihoods depended on individual plots of land, the Sierra Maestra

peasants were rural proletarians who had notliing to seIl but their labour (ibid). However.

to state that there was a high dejree of social coliesion arnonç a group of people. we niust

look for niore evidence than just the fact tliat they were al1 alienated from tlie means of

production.

Wliat can be said about the Iittle social differentiation among the precaristas and

the otlier peasant groups in tlie Sierra Maestra. is tliat most of tlieni lived i n poverty ai~d

nearly al1 of them depended lagely on seasonal wage labour opportunities ai the niills.

With the exception of the hacienda owners. many of whom lived elsewhere. and tlieir

mayorales. most of the population of the Sierra Maestra was poor. Secondly. a case could

be made that the campesinos were drawn closer together because they shared a common

enemy, in panicular. the conflict they had with the mayorales. in many cases hacked by the

Guardia Rural. over land: a resource that was essential to their daily lives. I Iiave already

mentioned the problems the peasants were having with land-tenure insecurity and the

evictions they faced from hostile landowners and government. Related to the point made

above, the most solid evidence for social cohesiveness among the peasants. or ai least the

precaristas, living in the Sierra Maestra is that they organized forms of resistance against

the mayorales and the Guardia Rural. They had, even before Castro arn'vect there. been

organized in bands of social bandits, a mixture of outlaws and protesters (Dominguez

1978: 436-437). Unfonunately 1 have not found any specific examples of how these

9s

çroups were orçanized. nor to what extent their operations were in the Sierra Maestra

with the exception of the account of rebel Faustino Pérez (in the 1 1 January 1959 issue of

Bohmitr). who clainis that during the initial stages of the revolution precarista leader

Cresencio Pérez offered Castro one hundred men to fight in tlie revolutioii (in Tlioiiias

197 1 : 901). This means that we cannot definitively Say that there was a Iiiyli degree of

social cohesion amony t lie Sierra Maestra precarista peasants. but only tliat sonie social

cohesion existed anlong them.

This was tlie milieu tliat Castro and the July 76 Rebel Arciiy entered wlien tliey

were led into the Sierra Maestra in December 1 956 by Cresencio Pérez. leader of the locsl

precaristas. Some of these peasants easily recognized Castro as an ally brcaiise tliey Iiad

already initiated political action and resistance by attempting to bridge regional and

economic differences ainong themselves by forming a common front against tlie mayorales

of the latifundia and the government. This political expression is a primary element of

what Gavin Sniith (1989) refers to as the 'production of culture' among the peasants.

Gavin Smith ( 19S9), in Liiv/ihstul m d XCJ.S~.SI~IIICC', discusses, in a Pertivian

context, how a heteroyeneous group of peasants (tlie Huasicancliinos) beyan to iiiobilize

around an espression of common identity as a community that was initiated tlirouyli an

intensification of discourse among their various groups when al1 their livelilioods werr

threatened by conflict with outsiders -- the large haciendas owners, the anny. and the

police. In other words. during periods of conflict, discourse becomes heightened and

social relations among persant groups funher solidifies even tliough there may be points

of contention tliat esist among the peasant groups. Accordinp to Smith. "once resistance

99

is expressed openly and in concert" among heteropnous groups such as the ones he

describes "... it is a process of hegemonic formation at al1 levels" (Siiiith 1980: 17). Once

resistance is openly expressed and in concen. however, the dictates of the political act ivity

take on tlieir own nioinenturn (Smith 1989: 1 7). Smith also assens that by examining t tiis

process we can funlier our understanding of "the Iiistorical. always-incomplete productioii

of culture among peasants" (ibid). For Sinith, "tlie production and reproduction of cciltiire

for ouy people in the niodern world is an intensely political affair" (Siiiitli 1989: 22 1

[Smith's emphasis]). It is also important to note that many peasants coordinate

production throuçh noncomniodified relationships such as reciprocal unpaid labour. aiid

that the strugyle to inaintain tliose relationsliips "0- a political struggle --becoines as iniicli

a pan of social reproduction as does tlie more daily struggle of livelihood" (Sitiitli I 989:

158-159).

The action taken by the sonie of the precarista peasants in the Sierra Maestra even

before Castro's insurgent movement arrived can be viewed as political. and hence.

accordinç to what Smith outlines above. can also be seen as the production of cultiire.

Distinct precarista groups in Cuba wit h different and sometinies conflictiny agendas iiiiglit

have intensified political discourse whicli led to political action when confronted with

conflict that endanpred their livelihoods. The precarista rebel groups' actions in Cuba

can be viewed as an integral pan of the formation of their social identity because their

political discourse probably intensified as more and more peasants lost land tenure and the

police, army and overseers continued to harass them. Unfonunately. there are no statistics

on the extent. if any. of noncommodified production relationships between the precaristas

100

and also between precanstas and the small land-holding peasants or rural proletarians of

the Sierra Maestra so it is impossible to say wliether this too became a focal point of

discourse and political action. Nevenheless, the fact that Cresencio Pérez, leader of the

precansta rebel movement in the Sierra Maestra. offered 100 men to Castro (Castro

rejected tlie offer because the men had no arrns) during tlie initial stages of the revolution

demonstrates that those who were precarista rebels Iiad already developed a poliiically

active shared identity or comniunity. At tliis point. we ought to ask if tlie social relations

which existed in the Sierra Maestra at the time of the 1959 revolution also existed in

Havana. An examination of the socioecono~nic conditions in the two regions will rrnder

possible a brief coniparison between theni.

In contrast with the social relations which existed in the countryside. the social

matrk of the urban area of Havana was somewhat more cornplex. Urban rreas. includiiiy

the region of Havana. were primarily coiiiprised of three main social classes: a capitalist

industrialist class ( / L I S clc~s~.~~ r c u ~ ~ ~ m i c m ) ; a relatively large and espanding middle class;

and a politically powerful indust rial working class (los clc~.w-.~ pr~polte*~j.s). The reiiiainder

were the ~inemployed and those who worked in the service and tourist trade (ticcktsi.).

The industrial working class was incorporated into the mainstream of national politics

when the Constitution of 1940 leyitimized the riglits of labour (Pérez-Stable 1993 : 36).

Tlie trade union movenient was primarily interested in the concerns of the urban working

class, and had few, if any, representatives in ille Cuban rural areas. In addition. Batista

sustained an alliance of the army with the powef i l trade unions and botli were corntpt

(Baran 196 1 : 17; Thomas 197 1 : 1448- 1450). Consequently, for the most pan, during the

revolution. the urban working class remained passive.

Even the conimunist pany of Cuba remained cautious abolit joining Castro's

revolution. Tliere were two reasons for tliis: tlie Communist Pany of Ciiba had

previously, in 1938. deveioped a friendly relationship witli Batista and a stance against Iiiiii

would make thein appear bypocritical; and, during the years of tlie revolution. tliey were

subjected to persecution and terror by Batista and it was probably fear for tlieir own safety

which prevented tliem froin openly supportitis Castro (Thomas 197 1 : 7 11). Soiiit!

individual menibers of the other classes. acting on their own accord. provided stippon for

Castro, but only the declase provided a considerable amount of syiiipatliy for the

revolution. Altliouçh there was not any organized espression of support. the declese

sympathy advanced an atrnosphere favourable to the revolution, and accordin-,ly

facilitated urban underground activities and broadened Castro's popularity afier the

revolution (Baran 196 1 : 18). With the exception of a (failed) student attack on the

presidential palace in Havana on 13 March 1957. there was not a very well coordinated

revolutionary movement in Havana and mosr of the revolutionary action took place in the

Sierra Maestra.

Castro spent two years (from late 1956 to late 1958) in the Sierra Maestra in the

Oriente province waging guerrilla warfare against General Batista's regime. fight ing the

Guardia Rural and raiding isolated military outposts such as La Plata. Over tlie first sis

months spent in the mountains. Castro and the rebels gradualiy çained gondwill from the

majority of the local guajiros. many of wliom were recruited into the rebel army. Castro

and the other Ieaders of the insurrection reaIized well in advance of their attack, t hat tlieir

success depended largely on tlie suppon of the local peasant population of the Sierra

Maestra region. The task of recniiting carnpesinos into the rebel activities at tirst

appeared dauntinç to sonie of the rebels because the Guardia Rural. Batista's rural forces.

inflicted reprisais on any inhabitants of an area in which even the most minimal of contact

with the rebels was made. Ché Guevara, when referring to relations between the Giiardia

Rural and tlie peasants. was to write later. "Every campesino was seen as a poteiitial

rebel" (Guevara in Judson l9S1: 1 15). hloreover. Castro and Iiis iiien knew very littlr

about the area and irs people. Castro later recollected tliat tliey ?.. did not know a single

peasant in the Sierra Maestra and, funher, the only information we had of [tlie areô] ... \vas

what we had learnt in geography books"(Castro cited in Thomas 1971: 90-3). Still. sis

months afier Castro and Iiis ras-tas rebel conthjent entered tlie iiiountains tliey had the

suppon of a major ponion of the Sierra Maestra population.' Sonie of rlie peasants wlio

joined Castro's Rebel Army in the mountains were local practitioners of Santeria (Jordan

1993: n. 23). At the time the rebels did not foster antireligious sentiments and were

satisfied that their social revolution and the religious beliefs of the Cuban people could

coexist (Brandon 1993: 100). Ché Guevara. for example. disciissed reliyioii as well as

political and social reforms when trying to recruit Santeria followers:

Guevara talked of land reform and of collective agriculture. "of what we would do when the war was over" .... Local superstitions and santerin (the belief in personal santos 'saints', 'spirituai intervenors'[sic]) were also topics which Guevara handled diplomatically (Judson 1964: 1 19).

As the stnigçle intensified, followers of Santeria played an even greater role within tlie

revolution. For exaniple. C. Fred Judson, in his book, Olhcr CIIIJ the Rr.~wlrtr~o~io~y M d )

( 1984), writes.

Botli the established cliurches and syncretic forms of Afro-Cuban religions. Le. santeria, becarne centers of eniotional and spiritual resistance to the dictatorship. The guerrillas wore both Catholic medals and beaded santeria necklaces. Castro was appropriated by some santeria believers. atid appeared in wax figurines: he himself apparently wore a Santa Barbara medal ... . It seenis reasonable to conclude tliat religious sentiments among combatants were encouraged, to the extent that many figliters were believers (Judson 1 984: 103).

Accordiny to ludson's account. then. as the revolution continued, the rebels and the

practitioners of Srnteria becanie more closely associared with each otlier tliroiigh each of

tliein eiiiploying the parapliernalia of Santeria in difierent ways. Oti a related iiote.

Brandon contends tliat attendrnce at Santeria activities in the Sierra Maestra provided one

of the few arenas for social interaction beyond the family, and tliat tliese activities were

independent of any cleavages that divided peasant communities (1993: 100). Froin tbis. i t

is reasonable to contend that Castro and the rebels miçht have had easier access into

different peasant cornniunities because their appropriation of sonie of the acoiitrenients of

Santeria than they would have had they not appropriated those acoutrements.

At the same tirne Santeria practitioners in the Sierra Maestra were beiiig

incorporated into Castro's rank and file, the majority of the Santeria followers in the

Havana region were supponing General Batista. In Havana, Batista was popular among

blacks and consistentlp supponed various African-Cuban relisions siich as Santeria

(Thomas 1971: S5 I ) . 3 I n fact. "[ait Guanabacoa. across the bay from Havana. a

traditional source of ceinture. special masses were held for the general's protection"

(Bonachea and San Martin 1974: 13 1). And in a desperate attempt to hold on to power in

September 1 955. Batista gathered together liundreds of santeros and priests and diviners

from other Mncan-Cuban religions "to summon the gods of Mica to his aid and 'to

appease the demons of war"' (Moore 1988: 1 2).

It is clear that during the revolutionsry stnigyle to topple the Batista regime

santeros fought on boih sides. Many of the followers of Santeria in the Sierra Maestra

identified with Fidel Castro and his small rebel force, whereas, in Havana. most of the

practitioners of Santeria supponed Batista. Both Castro and Batista appropriated and

employed symbols of tlie Santeria religion in the hopes of çarnering political suppon froiii

the practitioners of that religion. Also. tlie practitioners of Sanreria froni two different

reçions in Cuba iiiobilized t heir cultural materials di fferently from eacli ot her even r lioiigli

these practitioners froni both ends of tlie island had access to basically the saine ciiltiiral

materials. As a result, the practitioners in the east associated the ciiltural inarerials of

Santeria in conguence witli Castro and the practitioners in tlie West associated tlie cultiiral

materials of Santeria in congnlence with Batista.

Sumnw-y i i~id Coiicliisioiis

This ctiapter reiterates the historical pattern of social, economic and political

divisions between eastern Cuba and Havana that were outlined in tlie first tivo cltapters.

The same socioracial patterns of the eighteenth century Cuba continued in the east in [lie

nineteenth and twentietli centuries, while. during the same period, harsh forms of public

racism were generally confined to Havana and the western sugrr zones. American

economic and military interventionism not only impaired Cuban economic and political

autonomy, it also was a contribiiting factor in the rise of nationalkt sentiments. Tbese

sentiments indirectly nourished the Afro-Cubanism movement that introdiiced many white

middle class Cubans to Santeria-

1 O5

1t was suggested near the end of this chapter tliat the practice of Santeria proïideci

links between diverse peasant communities and individuals living in the Sierra Maestra

during tlie revolution. If this is true. then the practice of Santeria in the Sierra Maestra

niay have contributed to a shared identity among its practitioners tliroughout the Sierra

Maestra and could be considered an arena of common discourse for a heterogenoiis group

of followers who Iiad different and sometimes conflicting interests. In this sense. Santeria

could be seen as an arena for what Gavin Smith calls 'the production of ciiltiire'. It is

also sugested above, that when Castro and his rebel group were in the Sierra Maestra.

Santeria rnight have provided a focal point of identification between thein and soiiie of the

peasants. Tliese suggestions. Iiowever, must remain conjecture until funher Iiistorical

research and field work into tlie practice of Santeria in the Sierra Maestra lias been

conducted. Unfoniinately, sucli research is beyond the scope of tliis tliesis. However. tlie

evidence presented above shows that some of the precaristas were politically active across

different areas of the Sierra Maestra, even before Castro and his group appeared. and

some of these precaristas likely practiced Santeria. This chapter also shows that Santeria

was practiced by a near balance of blacks and whites, and therefore. was probably an arena

of discussion among ditferent racial groups in the Sierra Maestra. Finally. i t can be stated

tliat both of the leaders of the groups who were contesting each otlier's @lit to

legitimately hold power in Cuba (Castro and Batista) couned Santeria practitioners in

order to recruit their political support.

Notes

1. The south Coast now features a paved higliway that runs between the mountains and the sea. Gerardo, a man wlio drove me through the Sierra Maestra in June, 1 997. told nie that the road was built immediateiy following the revolution. I sunise that Castro knew pan of his success in the mountains was due to the dif'ficulties that the Batista Rural Guard tiad in mobilizing their forces there: once in power he would not allow any counter- revolutionary force to have the same advantage.

2. This miglit have had somethinç to do with the seasonal employment in the Sierra Maestra. I t was mentioned before that the zafra, or hawest season of sugar. coffee. and tobacco arrives in January afier the sumnier rains and continues at an intense Pace until June. Consequently. many of the campesinos of the Sierra Maestra would probably have been working for tliis sis montlis period and too birsy to join Castro's revoluiioii.

3. A santera nanled Zoraida. wlio had been living in Havana for more tlian forty years. told me that durinç the tirne of the revolution many people knew that Batista practiced Santeria. She claimed that Batista and his wife gave away different Santeria charms and amulets at political rallies and events. Accordinç to Zoraida, Batista also financed the placement of a big statue of Santa Barbara in her home town of Sagua La Grande. wliicli is located about 25 kilometers nonh of Santa Clara in the central pan of Cuba. "That Santa Barbara is still there". she said, "There is whai they cal1 the Civic Society of Santa Barbara in that place."

Conclusions

The goal of this thesis was to bnng into relief the historical construction of social

and political relations in Cuba from the arriva1 of Columbus to the 1959 Revolution. This

project has examined how econornic, social and political differences between two differenr

regions in Cuba have historically affected race relations, brought about Cuba's

independence from Spain, set the stage for the 1959 Cuban revolution, and contributed to

the inception and ongoing reorientation of Santeria. the African-Cuban religion. The

secondary focus of this tliesis was to investigaie how Santeria was affected by the

historical construction of social and political groups in Cuba. Here, the argument points

to the differeni ways in which the development of Santeria was related to the regionaliy

specific political, economic, and social contexts in which the practitioners of Sanreria were

living. While the same could perhaps be argued for Catholicism, it was even more true

of Santeria given its lack of official doctrine and the central importance of divination

rituals. In addition, Santeria is the religion of subordinate groups in Cuba and tlierefore

may reveal more about their specific situation.

Chapter I traces the roots of Santeria from West Africa to Cuba. The second

chapter points up how the initial heçemonic project of Spain, that was outlined in Chapter

1, became fractured as the Spanish Church and the state had different views concerning

that project. In addition, the elites in the West preferred to remain under Spanish control.

while the elites in the east preferred separation from Spain which resulted in a series of

wars. In two of those stmççles, the Ten Years War and the Guerra Chiquita, Afncan-

Cuban military leaders not only participated in into the same discursive space as the white

1 O8

separatist elites. they also served as symbols for social change for black slaves. Also,

Santeria was able to develop in the spaces made by that fracture when the Catholic Cliurcli

accomrnodated African religious expression in tlie cabildos. This historical analysis in

Chapter 7 also reveals that the development of Santeria took place primarily in Havana in

the early nineteenth century in the Cat holic sponsored African cabildos t lien spread

throughout the island. Chapter 3 shows how both local and global socioeconomic and

political processes intersected and shaped social conditions at the local level. In tliis

chapter we also saw how tlie racially motivated ainbiguous and contradicting attitudes ofg

the dominant sectors of twentieth century Cuba were expressed toward worshippers of

Santeria. These attitudes vacillated back and fonh between tolerance and repression up to

and including the 1959 Cuban Revolution when Santeria practitioners in the Sierra Maestra

identified with Castro and the rebels. while at the same time, in Havana. Santeria followers

supponed Batista.

This analysis could not have been accomplished by only analyzing the historical

cultural relations in Cuba, or by just analyzing the historical social practices. but rather it

was necessary to analyze both the cultural and social sirnultaneously. oscillatinj back and

fonh between the two strands of analysis. In this final conclusion, 1 will present three

significant arguments that this thesis makes which validate the importance of the approacli

taken, that conjoins two different dimensions of analysis. To begin with. 1 want to reflect

on the concept of 'syncretism'. which was touched on in the introduction of this tliesis.

Next, I will return to the weiçht that the analytical framework of Antonio Gramsci's

notion of hegemony has provided this thesis, for teasing out the complexities of the

1 O9

relations of power and domination. Finally. 1 will consider the importance of analyzing

cultural beliefs in relation to the intersection of local and global processes. And, as a

recapitulation of my initial arpment in these conclusions. 1 will discuss the significance of

investiçatinç cultural beliefs in relation to the social contexts froni wliich they unfold.

Sy ncretism

It was Melville Herskovits ( 1937) who popularized the terni 'syncretisiii' mong

English-speaking intellectuals in a study tliat posits the view that the merginy of African

and Roman Catholic religions in different locations of the world is idiosyncratic and

without much foret hoiight on the pan of the practitioners. Altliough 1 disagree witli tlie

latter, 1 agree with the former -- tliat is. 1 agree that tlie rnerçing of African and Roi~iati

Catholic religions was different for various people in diverse locations. but I do not agree

that the merging was a random and unconscious act of the practitioners of those religions

(even though I can only speak for the case of what happened in Cuba). Herskovits has

been cnticized by theoreticians for various reasons. For exaniple, Andrés 1. Pérez y Mena

(1 995: 140- 14 1 ) attacks Herskovits for privileging Catholicism over African contributions.

rather tlian looking at the syncretism as being a CO-equal relationship. And Roger Bastide

finds fault with Herskovits because "he stays entireiy within cultural anthropology instead

of moving ahead to a sociology of reli~ious interpretations", as well as because of his

emphasis on functionalism and ecology (1960: 23). Herskovits' mode1 coupled with

notions of traditional anthropological research which has been onented to the stud y of

bounded, 'simple', 'primitive' isolates, has led some to misinterpret syncretism as beiny

the iderior by-product of a confused çroup of people stunned by the adversity of slavery.

110

The problem is exacerbated by Western religionists who confuse onhodosy with religion

and set their own self-projected criteria that religions must have clear and definitive

doctrines (Brandon 1993: 158).

Followinç Brandon (1993). Bastide ( 1 960) and others (see for exaniple. Murpliy

1988; Drewal 1996; Cafiizares 1993), I see syncretic religions, Sanreria in panicular. in

terrns different frorn rhose set out above. 1 see Santeria as an ongoiny process tlirougli

whicli its practitioners made (and still make) intentional choices of the rlenients of otlier

religions that t hey wish to incorporate into Santeria. The syncretism of Santeria, seen in

this Iight. represents conscious political action on the pan of practitioners who have the

ability to simultaneously negotiate multiple beliefs and practices thar ma' seeiii to be

contradictory. Some examples of these conflictual and contradictory syinbols are: cross-

çender correspondences suc11 as Chango, the çod of war, with Saint Barbara: and the

multiple carninos, or pathways, of sometime contradictory personalities tliat are associatect

with some of the orishas. But the conflict and contradiction that are embodied in ritual

and political symbols can, nevertheless, persist a long time as some people Iioid on ro the

old meanings as primary while others attach new meanings to the same synibols (Brandon

1993: 100). And, in many postcoionial multiracial. multiethnic, heterogenous societies

where the cultural systems are always beiny contested and redefined. these symbols also

continue in an always incomplete synthetic process (ibid). Hence, conflicting and

contradictory symbols can appear 'normal' once embedded in the cultural niaterial.

Hegemoci y

Antonio Gramsci's notion of hegemony has been an invaluable theoretical tool for

I l l

uncovering the underlying relationships within and among unequal groups in Cuba. not

only for analyzing moments of conflict. but also for analyzing periods in whicli there is no

conflicr. For example. we saw (pp. 46-52) how from the mid-eiçhteenth century until the

mid-nineteenth century a sector of the mling classes in Cuba, the Cuban Catholic Clerçy.

encourased and sponsored tlie growth of the subal tern ethnic African cultural forms in the

African-Cuban cabildos. Of course, Bishop Morel's intentions were to have the Africans

cast aside rheir African religioris values and have those values replaced with Spanisli

valiies, but in this contest, the African-Cubans found a nunuring space for wliar Gaviii

Smith refers to as the production of culture (1989: 158). The cultural niaterial that was

beinç produced was an identification with a community or ethnicity and the construction

and maintenance of a history tlint accompanied the ethnicity, even thougli that etlinicity

perhaps began as an imagined European construct. The growtli of tlie African ctiltural

forms and social relations of free blacks and slaves during this time in Cuba was the resulr

of the inability of the Cuban Catholic Church to impose the oficial doctrine of Catholicisin

(folk Catholicisrn in actuality) as it was practiced in Cuba at that tinie. 1 have attempted IO

show that it was not necessarily a weakness that the Church had to incorporate certain

forms of subaltern culture, and in fact it can be said to have even strenghened tlie

hegernonic process. because the church was able to extend its influence by incorporatiny

alternative religious forms. Therefore, hegernonic projects of dominant groups who

practice the 'politics of inclusion' by allowing space to exist for alternative forms of

culture that do not threaten the interests of the dominant groups. are not necessarily signs

of weaknesses in the process of domination, but perhaps may be a sign of strength (Kim

II2

Clark, personal communication 28 Aug~ist 1998).

The above is an example of how Gramsci's notion of heyemony aids in untanylin~

the threads of how power operates in social relations in times when there is no oven

conflict. The following is an example of how hegemony. as an analytical tool. helps to

interpret social relations of differential power in tinies of open conflict.

During the Cuban Revolution. which culniinated in 1959. Fidel Castro and his baiicl

of r*r.helcies were piirsuing a counter-hegenionic project in the mountains of the Sierra

Maestra. initially by recniiting local peasants and conducting raids on military o~itposts.

and later, wlien tliey were more established, by broadcasting messages to the Cuban

masses over their clandestine Radio Rebelde. Although Castro was attemptiny to

constitute a counter-hesemonic project at the national level, he was condiicting a

heçemonic project at the local level. Castro's counter-heçemonic project at tlie national

level was aimed at the hegemony of Batista which staned weakening even before Castro

began his campaisn and became even weaker du ring tlie revolution. Batista's hegemonic

project was disintegrating because more and more sectors of the Cuban popiilace besan tci

question the props of his leyitimacy to nile. Any peasant support from the Sierra Maestra

was lost when he attenipted to evacuate the entire area as a counterinsuqency measure.

Members of the iipper and middle classes no longer supponed him because of a severe

economic downturn in 19%. in addition to his cunailinç of personal freedoms (lie

restricted freedom of t he press, freedom of association and political activity). And. just

before his fall, the United States and his own military questioned his right to mle when the

United States ceased shipment of arms to Cuba because Batista broke a trade a, areement

113

(Domingiez 1978: 110- 133). Still, Castro had to consolidate his own hesemonic project

at the local level. wliich, incidently, later became the hegemonic project nt the national

level when the revolution became a success.

In order to establish their heçemonic project ai the local level in the Sierra Maestra

during the revolution. Castro and the Rebel Ariny had to incorporate sonie of the

aspirations of the peasants/precaristas into their agenda. They did this by eniployiiig wliai

Judson (1974) refers to as a mobilizins inyth to establish a guerrilldpeasant solidarity.

Along with political education sessions given to the peasants priinarily by CIié Guevara.

the rebels lived with the peasants and esperienced their lives, as well as opening iip the

political sessions to include the concerns of the peasants. Thus as Judson States:

The few recruits from the peasant class fraction peculiar to the Sierra Maestra broiiçht attitudes which political education had to address. Santeria, distrust of authority, suspicion. fear of the army and anti- communist sentiments had to be addressed in people of geai survival skills and natural ingenuity. but without much. if any, formal education (Judson 1974: 121).

As we can see the rebels' heçemony was one whicli incorporated the alternarive cultural

forms of the subaltern in the Sierra Maestra. Castro's heçemonic project in the Sierra

Maestra was not only strengthened by the inclusion of the subaltern forms. it was also

largely dependent on it. What is also interesting is that some of the subaltern cultural

forms of the peasants in the Sierra Maestra became so firn~ly entrenclied within Castro's

heçemonic project. that when that project was elevated to the national level he proposed

land redistribution policies that were tailored to meet the needs of the precaristas in the

Sierra Maestra, bur caused discord with agricultural workers and peasants in other pans of

the country (Dominguet 1978: 440).

Intersectioii of global al id lociil proccsses

It lias been argued ofien and cogently by many anthropoloyists and historians tliai

tlie study of social groups cannot be done properly when considering those groups in

isolation. That is why tliroughout this tliesis 1 have made reference to the ways in whicli

direrent social. economic and political processes emanating froni both iiiside and oiitsidr

Cuba intersected in the lives of the people living in V ~ ~ O U S places in Cuba. Sicliiey hlititz

(1985). as mentioned in chapter 2. denionstrated Iiow changes in diet in Eiirope were

connected with the intensification of the slave trade. 1 would like to bring fonvarcl anoilier

example of how the intersection of global and local processes brought about clianges il1

the racial character of Santeria in Cuba that was included in the body of tliis r iiesis. I r

concerns the rise of nationalist sentiments in Cuba in the late nineteenth and early

twentieth centuries and the niodernist movement of intellectuals in Europe. the United

States and Cuba diiring the 1920s and 1930s.

It was pointed out that the rise in nationalist sentiments was funher esacerbated

afier the expansion of United States economic, political and military interventionist

policies in the late nineteenth and early twentietli centuries. Previously there had been.

throuphoot Cuba's history. nationalist attitudes caused by tensions with Spain, but tliere

remained a relative balance between creole and peninsular tensions until tlie Ten Years

War and the War of Independence. Tiiese nationalist sentiments, then, coincided witli the

modemist movement in Europe and the United States a few decades later. European and

Amencan artists. novelists. and other intellectuals began to glonfi the 'primitive', 'esotic'

African. Cuban intellectuals looking for a definitive 'Cuhor~i.vmo ', were able to

sirnultaneously bolster their own national pride and find a more celebrated position witliiii

the world rnodernist niovenient by incorporating African-Cuban cultural inaierial into tlieir

own work. This attracted a great many niiddle class wliites to Santeria and changed the

racial composition of the religion. This example shows how global aiid local Ilrocesses

intersected in the !ives of practitioners of Santeria in many diflerent areas of Cuba. Thus.

economic processes witliin the United States affected social processes within Ciiba at the

national level (tlie rise in nationalisni as a respoiise to American economic intervetitionisiii

and domination of Ciiban econoinic afiirs). Social processes ai tlie iiational levrl in Ciiba

responded to external social processes in the United States and Europe (tlie nioclei+iiist

movement). These processes, in turn, affected social processes at one local level in Ciiba

(the attraction of whites to Santeria) which affected still other social processes at another

local level (the black pract itioners of Santeria becoming more closely associared wit li

white followers of Santeria).

Cilltural ii lad sociiil diiiieiisioiis o f nnrlysis

The exercise of wnting this thesis has allowed me to see the importance of

analyzing cultural beliefs in relation to the social contexts from wliich they emerge.

Kim Clark. who has been supervising me with this thesis. has introduced me to varioiis

works that stress the weight of combininy historical social and political analysis and

histoncal cultural analysis. One such piece is William Roseberry's ( 1 989: 30-54) superb

essay entitled. "Marxism and Culture". For Roseberry, the cultural is inseparable from

material social praciices. In his own words, he claims that, "the 'autonomy' of culture. in

116

my view. cornes not from its removal from the material circunistances of Iife but from its

connection" (Roseberry 1989: 42). In his rereading of Marx, Roseberry goes on to refer

to the material as being changeable "under new circumstances" and not as a pre-

determined position in the class structure. 1 am in agreement with Roseberry and tliis

thesis attempts to historically analyze the practices of Santeria followers iii relatioii to the

social contexts from wliich they einersed in Cuba following Coluinbus' intrusion into tlie

island in 1492 up to the 1959 Cuban Revolution. A brief example of tliis type of analysis

that 1 have incorporated into the test which simiiltaneously negotiates tlie syiiibolic and

the social. is Brandon's (1993: 77-78) interpretation for the disappearance of the Yoniba

eanh cults in Cuba (p. 56) as being due to tlie absence of individual or coiiitiiiiiial

ownership of the land. 1 have also attempted ro show that diftèrences existed between the

practitioners of Santeria in Havana and the practitioners of Santeria in the Sierra Maestra

because of their social conditions. Thus, they might have had the same basic cultural

beliefs, but they mobilized those beliefs in differenr ways that reflected their social.

economic and political contexts. In a certain sense. in this thesis. I have attenipted to

emuiate the practitioners of Santeria. Tliey have the ability to simultaneously negotiate

muitiple meanings in their religion; 1 have attempted to simultaneously negotiate two

direrent dimensions of anthropoloçical analysis.

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