Black “Americans” versus Cuban “Foreigners”

The native/foreigner frame emerged as a prominent discourse in the newspaper, reflecting—and shaping—African American responses to the Mariel boat lift. In the native/foreigner frame, groups claim to be more entitled to citizenship on the grounds that their group has a longer history of time or investment in being included in the United States. The Miami Times’s news stories and editorials painted Cubans as “newer” foreigners who should not receive privileges over African Americans, who are “natives” to the United States, entitled to the privileges of citizenship and standing closer to whites. For instance, an editorial titled “America’s Partiality to Cubans” asks the readers to consider whether the United States should draw the line in helping Cubans. It argues that African Americans were getting the short end of the stick and that the racialized experiences of African Americans were worse than those of Cubans. The article claims that Cubans suffered less scrutiny than African Americans and that Cubans were rarely falsely accused of crimes, as were African Americans.⁵ This analysis failed to recognize that, as discussed in Chapter 2, the new wave of Cuban immigrants from Mariel (many of whom were black) were depicted as criminals within both the Cuban and U.S. press (Masud-Piloto 1996).

Stories in the paper firmly establish African Americans as part of the “we”—American citizens who, along with white Americans, believe in preserving the economic and political interests of the nation. An editorial written later that summer, “Government Should Accommodate Those Cubans Wanting to Go Back,” reads, “It is inexcusable that American citizens are being victimized by the federal government’s shoddy handling of the Cuban boat flotilla.… It’s time we remind Castro that he’s not dealing with the thirteen original colonies.”⁶ The editorial lays claim to the U.S. nation and its “greatness,” as it criticizes the federal government for “sidestepping its responsibility” toward U.S. citizens and leaving a mess for the local government to clean up. This criticism of the federal government reflects a stereotypical “get tough” opposition to Castro that is similarly expressed in the editorials of other local Miami newspapers such as the Miami Herald and El Miami Herald. But using a native/foreigner frame of reference, the editorial’s support for allowing Cubans to go back to Cuba demonstrated a sentiment that was not just about supporting the United States’ anti-communist stance but also about advocating for the end of Cuban immigration. The Mariel exodus is depicted as problematic not only because it meant accepting people Castro had sent to the United States but because the acceptance of the refugees and the drain on the local government meant that “real,” more deserving American citizens would be disenfranchised on the refugees’ behalf.

A prominent way of establishing African Americans as more deserving, “real” Americans was through an emphasis on the controversies of language. For instance, a top front-page news story titled “ ‘No Habla Español’ Costs Black Maids Their Jobs” reports that a hotel manager fired black maids because he wanted to hire Spanish-speaking maids to better cater to the Latin American tourists who frequented the hotel. The article expresses the fears found in several other stories and editorials that Cubans were taking jobs from blacks and that blacks should fight against linguistic discrimination by Spanish speakers. Indeed, the hotel manager did tell the paper that a large volume of his patrons were tourists from Latin American countries and that some guests complained that the maids could not understand Spanish. As Cubans became more influential in Miami and as Cuban-owned businesses expanded, African Americans seeking employment would very likely encounter Cubans as employers, and the discrimination the article speaks of was not unheard of. Hence, this article and the sentiments it reflects is indicative of a greater fear held by African Americans that this new immigrant group was set on adopting the anti-black attitudes of white citizens. The article ends by linking these firing incidents with the larger controversy going on at the time over an anti-bilingualism proposal that was being circulated.⁷ The support for the ordinance by some African Americans demonstrated a view among them that, as English speakers, African Americans, like white Americans, held a more rightful claim to America’s resources than did “foreigners.”

This sentiment was expressed in a letter to the editor, “Bilingualism an Excuse for Discrimination,” which complains that bilingualism has been used by Spanish-speaking people to justify discrimination against blacks. In the letter, which was in response to an editorial published September 11 that advocates that blacks learn a second language, the author asks, “Why should our people waste their hard earned money and time to learn a second language? Giving in to such a measure would show our people to be weak and passive.”⁸ The letter calls for members of the African American community to stand up for themselves in the face of cultural change. Moreover, the critique being advanced was that by accommodating newcomers rather than fulfilling its responsibilities toward African American citizens, the federal government was continuing to fail them.

One of the most scathing letters to the editor regarding Cuban immigrants and bilingualism, “Cubans Should Not Be ‘One up’ on Blacks,” sets up a fierce native/foreigner opposition:

Spanish should not be crammed down Americans’ throats whether Black or White. When refugees are invited into a person’s home (America), they shouldn’t rearrange the furniture (English language), after getting here, but they leave all cultural ties either at home or in that foreign country that they come from in order to adapt the culture of America namely, an appreciation for an English speaking society. They are both minorities but Cubans should not have one up on language whereby it is a liability not to speak Spanish.

The writer presents the metaphor of the United States as a house, a house where both African Americans and whites belong, in part because both groups speak English.⁹ The stance that newcomers can be accepted only if they are willing to give up their own culture and adopt the culture of the United States reiterates the traditional assimilation imperative and the Anglo nativist stance, firmly planting African Americans as the indigenous minority of the United States.

Another prominent argument that emerged in the newspaper was the idea that the new immigrants were benefiting from all the contributions African Americans had made as builders of the nation. The letter to the editor about bilingualism and the use of language as an excuse to discriminate against blacks captures this view:

It seems as though our people have been discriminated against more so since America has adopted an open door policy. Europeans, Asians, Latins, etc. can come to this country and produce on a grand scale at the expense of a people whose blood, sweat and tears are part of the foundation that makes this country what it is.¹⁰

This letter and those like it complain that Cubans and other immigrants were forcing their way of life on everyone else.¹¹ African Americans, having worked hard to establish themselves in the United States and to secure the civil rights that benefit other groups, were being run over and taken advantage of. The authors advocate that blacks should “stand up for what is ours.” The idea here is that African Americans had earned a rightful place in the nation through their own efforts and thus should be rewarded and acknowledged as rightful worthy citizens of the nation. These critiques demonstrated that this African American perspective, which seemed to target Cubans as rivals, was also about an African American view that the federal government was responsible for the unequal treatment of African Americans and Cubans. Thus, in many stories that utilized a native/foreigner frame, we see an embedded acknowledgment or assertion that the division between Cubans and African Americans was actually an outgrowth of the federal government’s mishandling of its responsibilities toward its African American citizens.

To some African Americans, the differential treatment of the two incoming refugee groups—Haitians and Cubans—amounted to a perpetuation of the United States’ tradition of privileging white over black among the native-born. A letter to the editor, “South Florida’s Goal: Keep out Haitians,” illustrates how African American concerns about the differential treatment of Haitians and Cubans was related to their exasperation about the city’s treatment of African Americans and neglect of their needs. Haitians are in fact mentioned only in the first sentence—the rest of the letter complains about the advantages and discriminatory behavior of Cubans toward African Americans:

Why is it that the news media are always aligning the Cubans with Haitians, or for that matter with us blacks. Nonsense!! South Florida will do anything to keep out Black [sic] illegally at random. The only time the Cubans align themselves with blacks is when it is to their advantage. It has become part of the criteria for getting a job to speak Spanish. This takes jobs away from blacks. Must we always be last.… I’m sorry but the “Cuban love affair is over.” Every black voter should vote against bilingualism because it is only the beginning! The other South American countries do not welcome the Cubans—why should we?¹²

Ironically, while the letter criticizes the United States’ plan to keep Haitians out, it advocates keeping out Cubans. Stating that because Cubans jeopardize African American jobs, they should not be allowed to enter the United States, it presents an argument often put forth by white nativists against all immigration. The letter also makes reference to the ongoing bilingual debate described in previous news reports and editorials. By November 1980, voters had successfully passed the ordinance that repealed the Bilingual-Bicultural Ordinance, making it now against the law to use Metro funds for any non-English-language programs (García 1996). The passage of this ordinance was testament that African Americans and Anglos in the local community as a larger whole would come together to pass detrimental anti-immigrant policies when inspired by nativist feelings of “threat.”

The strong stance taken against bilingualism by some members of the African American community is incongruous, given the paper’s wide support of Haitian immigrants. Haitians were also not English speakers (over 90 percent are monolingual in Kreyol, a language without the number of speakers or the international scope of Spanish), yet there was little mention in the newspaper of conflict over language between Haitians and African Americans. Arriving in such large numbers, Haitians were also potential competitors for jobs. Only one article in the sample, by nationally syndicated columnist and civil rights leader Bayard Rustin, acknowledges in passing that conflict also existed between African Americans and Haitians.¹³ Besides this one acknowledgment, the majority of the newspaper articles demonstrate an assumption that the blackness of Haitians represented a kinship between them and African Americans—a natural alliance that erased economic, linguistic, and other lingering conflicts. The contradiction here of African American support of Haitians, who were also immigrants, illustrates the fact that while the immigrant/foreigner frame emerged as a prominent ideological trope in the newspaper, it was not immigration per se that African Americans were opposed to. Rather, they mounted a critique of U.S. immigration policy on social justice grounds because they believed it to be racially biased policy. The critique was fundamentally problematic, however, as it drew from and remained constrained by the white dominant black/white binary and “race” as the dominant frame.

Black Haitians versus White Cubans

Black activism strongly supported Haitians following a tradition of Pan-African idealism. Historically, early black leaders such as Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey emphasized connections between various black communities to rally people of African descent to fight their common oppression. Afrocentric thinkers such as Molefi Kete Asante have argued for the need to define a separate African identity because, as Asante asserts, “an African renaissance is only possible if there is an African ideology, distinct from a Eurocentric ideology, that allows African agency, that is, a sense of self-actualizing based upon the best interests of African people” (2003, 1). Such ideologies have circulated among African Americans, inspiring a common identity and social action. These ideologies rallied African Americans behind the Haitian migrants, not only to castigate the United States for its treatment of African Americans, but also to support Haitian migrants themselves. Thus, in the Miami Times (black) Haitians versus (white) Cubans emerged as a prominent theme.

The insistence on black Haitians over white Cubans makes sense when we consider how American black people are forced to live, and thus to use, the fiction of race. Race has been paramount in the U.S. political arena in struggles for economic, social, and cultural power. Thus, in a critique of the coverage of Mariel in the Miami Times, I do not wish to imply that the concept of race is or should be done away with; minority groups understandably cling to “race” as they seek to bring about change. As Stuart Hall argues, “[race] is also the principal modality in which the black members of that class ‘live,’ experience, make sense of and thus come to a consciousness of their structured subordination. It is through the modality of race that blacks comprehend, handle and then begin to resist the exploitation which is an objective feature of their class situation.… Thus it is primarily in and through the modality of race that resistance, opposition and rebellion first expresses itself” (1978, 347). Blacks learn that race matters through the ways they are treated, and then race (in the form of clinging to and affirming a black identity) becomes a primary way to resist that treatment, as we can see in the Miami Times.

The seeming preferential treatment of Cubans over Haitians strengthened African American opposition to Cuban immigration. Politicians, responding to negative stereotypes about Haitians (as AIDS carriers, for example), worked hard at keeping them out. But black churches, civil rights agencies, and human rights organizations galvanized strong support of Haitians and helped defeat some government efforts to restrict Haitian immigration and incorporation into U.S. society (Stepick 1992).¹⁴

The first reference to the Mariel events in the Miami Times was an op-ed by Ricky Thomas on April 17, 1980, during the same month that Mariel began, which reflected the strong African American community support for Haitians and set the tone for future reporting that conformed to a black/white binary. The author begins with a forceful statement about government favoritism for “white” immigrants: “The immigration policies of this nation are prejudicial and anti-black.” He points to the widespread support the Cuban immigrants had from the exile community, which mobilized demonstrations, raised money, and collected food to help those at the Peruvian embassy. “On the other side of the immigration coin, while the Cubans were demonstrating, the lowly black Haitian refugees were in federal court fighting deportation, fighting for survival and the right to remain in this country as political refugees just like the Cubans.” Thomas does not clearly explain why one should believe it is the government’s fault that the exiles were supportive of the newcomers, but he aligns the Cuban exile community with the U.S. government—portraying the exile community as helping to support or influence immigration policy, while the Haitians have no supportive community (and thus African Americans should take on that role).¹⁵

To convince readers further, the columnist provides stories and testimonies of the harrowing experiences of the Haitian refugee seekers. For instance, a man recounts that Haiti’s secret police, the Tonton Macoutes, had forced him to stand for four days in a cell, where all he had to drink was his own urine. With such testimonies, the columnist seeks to convince readers that the Haitian condition was horrible—arguing here that it is worse than that of the Cuban refugees:

I don’t buy the U.S. government’s answers about one nation is communist and the other a dictatorship. If you are killed by the forces of a dictator you are just as dead as if it were by communist forces.… I am not against Cuban, Nicaraguan, Vietnamese or any other refugees who are admitted to this nation. What I am totally against is the lilly white immigration policies of these United States which has an unwritten code which states, “if you’re white you’re right, if you’re black go back.” Write our U.S. representatives and tell them to stop treating our Haitian brothers and sisters unjustly.

The article calls into question the main defense used by the government for accepting refugees from communist countries over those seeking refuge for economic reasons. The author paints the Haitian situation as a human rights issue, asserting that the oppression experienced by groups seeking refuge should be what determines offers of asylum. The columnist seeks to expose a racist policy, but the larger climate of the Cold War and the ideology that supported it is reduced to mainly a racial issue. For instance, racism is discussed as if it is experienced only by those with black skin (and not by Cubans, Nicaraguans, and Vietnamese who fled communist regimes). Cubans are deemed to be “whites” and therefore favored by the U.S. government, whereas Haitians are constructed as the “brothers and sisters” of African Americans. The columnist speaks directly to the African American community: “So you see my people” and “So black folks, we must bring forth pressure upon our U.S. representatives.” The piece calls for African American activism around immigration issues in solidarity with Haitians as members of a black diaspora.¹⁶

In “Cuban Sealift Illegal,” another op-ed by the columnist Thomas, the author further indicates the belief that the Cubans are considered white immigrants and that Haitians were not receiving the same welcome in the United States because they are black. He complains about the many Cuban American citizens who took boats to pick up their compatriots leaving Mariel. He argues that even though “our” laws prohibit such actions and illegal immigration, “our governments from the national, state, county and cities are aiding and abetting them in the breaking of our American laws to illustrate the two kinds of justice which is practiced by our governments.” The two types of justice Thomas refers to depend on whether the defendant is white or black. Besides stopping the boat lift, he advocates the following:

The other immediate thing which the federal government needs to do is to declare the Haitians political refugees, so they could come under the Federal Migrant Refugee Act and receive political asylum in this nation just as all other white refugees have received with open arms.

Thomas accuses the U.S. government of being willing to break its own laws to privilege whites and whiteness. The columnist contends that government officials would not take the appropriate actions to mobilize federal assistance for both the Cuban and Haitian refugees or stop the boat lift because they did not want to anger Cuban American voters. He petitions members of the black community to become involved, voice their concerns about U.S. immigration laws, mobilize, and put pressure on the government to listen to African American voices.¹⁷ In his critique of Cuban American mobilization, Thomas depicts the concerns of Cubans and of African Americans as being directly oppositional to each other. As such, the op-ed adheres to a black/white binary that makes it impossible for Cubans and African Americans to be on the same team.

An editorial published a month later establishes an official newspaper viewpoint on the matter that corroborates the views of the columnist. Titled “Haitian Refugees Finally Noticed,” the editorial maintains that the Mariel influx may have had the unintentional benefit of forcing leaders to deal with the Haitian refugees. The article opens with “It took an inflow of 24,000 new Cuban refugees in the past week to bring attention to the 25,000 Haitian refugees who have been here among us for two years.” Although the piece calls for the equal treatment of both groups, the wording of the headline, lead sentence, and much of the article downplays the Cuban immigration in favor of a focus on Haitian immigration. This indifference toward Mariel Cubans is ironic, given that the article is about the indifference of the federal government toward the Haitian cause. The article reports that a coalition of Miami-Dade leaders voted to demand changes in the 1980 Refugee Act and more equitable treatment of Cuban and Haitian refugees.¹⁸ The new attention to the Haitian case is viewed as a positive development for African American and local government relations: “It was a good move by the Dade County Coordinating Council because it comes at a time when many black citizens in this community are beginning to wonder if the county really gives a damn.”¹⁹ By underscoring the comparison between the plight of Haitian refugees and government inattention to African American concerns, the newspaper continually frames the Haitian issue as an African American issue. Government attention to the Haitian cause would amount to, finally, an affirmation that the concerns of African Americans truly mattered to the country. As the editorial illustrates, the concerns expressed in the newspaper over immigration policy are not about mounting a critique of the United States’ treatment of immigrants and refugees in general, because little concern is displayed about the Cuban refugee situation and the obstacles they were encountering. Instead, the article implies that the contrast between the Cuban refugees and the Haitians is part of the same old story of white discrimination against blacks that African Americans have been experiencing for hundreds of years. As the paper depicted, race, and anti-blackness in particular, was at the heart of the differential treatment of the Haitians and Cubans. Rallying behind the Haitian cause, African Americans could continue their fight against anti-blackness as it took on new forms.

An op-ed written by prominent black leader Vernon Jordan, whose syndicated column appeared regularly in the paper, echoes the predominant sentiment of the Miami Times. The op-ed begins with the assertion that the government had been wishy-washy about its policy on the Marielitos, “but for those who managed to reach our shores, America has welcomed them, in the President’s words, with ‘an open heart and open arms.’ But the Haitians [sic] refugees are the ‘invisible boat people.’ ” As in other articles in the Times, Jordan questions the U.S. policy of assisting refugees from communist countries and not from others, such as those under the Duvalier dictatorship. He notes that “denial of basic human and political rights is hardly a monopoly of communist countries.” Invoking the black/white frame in a reaction against it, Jordan asserts that race was most likely the reason for the differential treatment of Haitians:

While immigration authorities implemented a deportation plan for Haitians, there was no such plan to deport Asians or Cubans as a “deterrent.” Why? It is hard to escape the conclusion that race is a factor. Many white Americans may harbor prejudice against Asians and Hispanic people, but those feelings flower into brazen racism when they are confronted with blacks.

Jordan speaks to a hierarchy among racialized groups, arguing that although other minorities were discriminated against in the United States, the treatment was not as blatant as anti-black racism. Jordan’s piece, like many of the other editorials and news stories related to Mariel, stands within a black and white framework, in which black oppressed “brothers and sisters” are pitted against other immigrants, particularly Cubans, or “foreign whites.”²⁰

The history of black disenfranchisement by whites in Miami had created a strict black/white binary opposition. As can be seen here, African American criticism of the United States’ immigration policy was a predominant concern in the Miami Times—and the stark difference between how Cuban and Haitian migrants were treated helped feed into the conclusion that immigration policy mirrored domestic racism. The Miami Times critique was limited, however; a closer look at the case of the Marielitos would have revealed that it was not only Haitians who were being deported but also those deemed undesirable among the Cuban newcomers. Furthermore, the differential treatment of Afro-Cubans disrupts the idea that Cubans are simply “whites.” Although race was a factor in the treatment of refugees, the predominant themes in the Miami Times did not capture the fact that other issues were at stake that influenced immigration policy, such as the fact that Duvalier was a puppet of the United States, whereas Castro was its avowed challenger. Seeing how the United States’ treatment of the Cuban refugees was also part of a greater imperialist project is important to break down the black/white frame.

Overall, the views expressed in the Times allowed Haitians to be included within the African American community but expressly excluded Cubans. Ironically, seeking to fight against a black/white frame that positions whites as true Americans and blacks as unworthy to be citizens, the newspaper reaffirmed a politics of racial division by painting Cubans as “whites” with whom solidarity could not be built. Framing the racial politics of Miami in these strict black-versus-white terms followed a model that had been set up long ago, as whites enforced a strict separation between the races. What we see going on in the Times illustrates how oppositional relationships between minority groups stem from the fact that as they seek to affirm their place in the nation, they can get caught up in a web of zero-sum reasoning firmly entrenched in the culture of the U.S. nation.

Call for Unity among All Oppressed Peoples

Although the majority of the articles in the Miami Times covering Mariel and the influence of Cubans in Miami are generally negative, about a fourth of the articles also voice positive opinions. These articles express the civil rights agenda to preserve alliances between minority groups and to explain conflicts between the two groups with a critique of white racism. This more positive coverage demonstrates that the newspaper did not have one singular stance on the issue of immigration and Mariel. Indeed, studies indicate that, nationally, African Americans were generally supportive of immigrants in the 1980s and 1990s. Some scholars have argued that black support for immigration during this time reflected the ideals of black leaders and not of the general black public (Fuchs 1990). Yet, other studies demonstrate that black publics and not just black leaders also saw how the disenfranchisement of immigrants is related to that of African Americans (Jaynes 2000; Pastor and Marcelli 2004; Thornton and Mizuno 1999). For instance, analyzing data from the 1984 and 1988 National Black Election Study data sets, Michael C. Thornton and Yuko Mizuno (1999) found that African Americans who felt less economically secure were more likely to feel affinity with immigrants than African Americans who felt more secure, perhaps due to feelings of empathy. In addition, the study found that blacks who believed immigrants were in competition with them felt less close to whites, a sentiment that, according to Thornton and Mizuno, indicates a sophisticated assessment of how power works in society and a belief among African Americans that white racism may be the cause of the inequalities between marginalized groups. From their analysis of 2003 Gallup poll data demonstrating more positive black than white attitudes toward immigration, Manuel Pastor Jr. and Enrico A. Marcelli (2004) similarly argue that African Americans believed that the gains that could result from political coalitions with immigrants outweigh the other problems that could result from increased immigration. In their view, black values about equality and humanitarianism, more than economic realities, may shape opinions.

However, in the Miami Times, the voices of black leaders were prominent in supportive articles. The writings and actions of black leaders have been influential in swaying African American public opinion and political behavior concerning immigration throughout the twentieth century (Pastor and Marcelli 2004). In the 1980s, the Miami Times reports included stories about the NAACP’s stand on immigration issues, and the paper ran regular or guest columns by leaders such as Vernon Jordan, Jesse Jackson, Bayard Rustin, and renowned African American scholar Manning Marable. Such articles about the stance of black leaders or columns from black leaders were much more supportive of the recent Cuban immigrants and the ideals of social justice for all. In his column titled “Bayard Rustin Speaks,” the civil rights leader argues that the major political problem in Miami was the pitting of one oppressed group against another. He provides a wide view of some of the problems plaguing Miami at the time—the barbarism of white hate crimes; the African American response to racial inequality, including the recent McDuffie Riot; black unemployment and the depressed economy; and black fears about the Cubans arriving during Mariel. Rustin argues that:

the widespread hatred and animosity of blacks toward the Cuban and Haitian refugees demonstrates that our economy of scarcity has at least succeeded in breaking the natural bonds linking the oppressed, the old strategy of “divide and conquer” has been resurrected, and black people have been distracted from the real sources of their problems by those who use refugees as convenient scapegoats.

Including Cubans along with Haitians, Rustin asserts a “natural” affinity between African Americans and other oppressed peoples, regardless of color, based on issues of social justice. He points to an outside source of conflict between the groups: the “powers that be” that manipulated and divided the groups, using immigrants as scapegoats. Rustin implies that the white power structure had not taken care of African Americans’ concerns, which were exacerbated by the 1980s depression. According to his ideals, blacks and other oppressed groups should not feed into the divide-and-conquer tactic but instead work together to bring about the changes that had not yet come into fruition.²¹

A September 18, 1980, news story presents a similar view promoted by the greater Miami chapter of the NAACP. In “NAACP Decries Anti-Bilingual Petition,” the NAACP argues that such an ordinance would affect not just the groups targeted (such as Spanish speakers) but also African Americans and jeopardize events celebrating Kwanzaa, for example. The NAACP contends that anti-bilingualism efforts support white supremacy, something blacks have been fighting against for centuries. The reporter of this story spoke to Dr. Bill Perry, president of the greater Miami chapter, who “compared the proposal to eliminate Dade’s bi-lingual status with the way African slaves arriving in America had their native language taken away from them—‘the first step in destroying us.’ ” The report shows how the NAACP situated the suffering of several minority groups within a larger context of white racism and aligned the black community with other minority communities.²² An editorial, “Bilingualism Is Here to Stay,” echoes some of these ideas, maintaining that blacks should accept the reality that (at the time) Dade County was close to 50 percent Latino, suggesting that bilingualism could be an asset, and advocating that black kids learn Spanish as well. Although the Times included some editorials supportive of the Mariel Cubans, no letters to the editor—that is, voices from the public—presented arguments supportive of Cuban immigrants. It is not clear whether the newspaper was not receiving such letters or if the paper chose to publish only those letters that represented the dominant opinion. Still, articles written by black leaders and other articles supportive of immigration demonstrate the complexity of African American–Cuban conflicts and serve as a reminder that there was no simple unified African American stance on the issue. The reception of the Marielitos was shaped by African American civil rights principles, the United States’ historical treatment of African Americans, and local black experiences with Haitians and Cubans. Additionally, class differences may have influenced the extent to which members of black communities were supportive of immigrant communities (Gay 2006; Marrow 2011; Thornton and Mizuno 1999).

Cuban Brothers and Sisters?

Interviews conducted with Afro-Cubans currently living in Miami and the attention to Afro-Cubans in the newspaper point to the reality of a more complex picture when thinking about African American and Cuban relations. The larger presence of Afro-Cubans among Mariel refugees presented a challenge to the newspaper’s simple binary between black and white and complicated the native/foreigner divide. As discussed in Chapter 2, between 15 and 40 percent of the Marielitos were black or mulattos (García 1996). Marielitos received intense scrutiny and were criminalized by other Miamians because they were perceived as fitting stereotypes commonly associated with blackness or African Americans (Hamm 1995). Although the Marielitos came from the same country with the same leader as the members of the exile community, their welcome by the federal government was not the same. On the whole, the Miami Times did not account for this complexity, asserting that the main reason for the difference in immigration policy toward Cubans and Haitians was racism rather than political ideology or economics, because Cubans were viewed as white. What to do, then, with black Cubans? If Cubans were white but black Cubans were benefiting from the same “liberal” polices toward white Cubans, could U.S. policy toward Cuban immigrants be attributed simply to racism?

Despite the predominance of the depiction of an African American/Cuban divide in the Miami Times, the newspaper also exhibited a Pan-African idealism in stories that picked up on the fact that some of the Mariel newcomers were also black. The newspaper did acknowledge the existence of black Cubans, pointing out that “the new Cuban refugees are bringing a far larger number of blacks than the original freedom flights of 10 years ago.”²³ When discussing black Cubans, the paper demonstrated more sympathy than it did toward “white” Cubans and pointed out the racism they experienced. Each time the paper reported on black Cubans, a photo was included, perhaps to demonstrate the dark color or “black look” of these Cubans.

The paper first took notice of black Cubans in an op-ed, “Reflection,” by Haiba Jabali, who connects black Cubans to a black diaspora and declares that the concerns of black Cubans should also be the concern of African Americans. Discussing important current events in the international black world in the previous month, she critiques the oppression of blacks by other blacks:

The suffering of Haitians are [sic] no different from the suffering of South Africans or the Afro-Cubans or the Jamaicans, or the Afro-Americans. Like the Cubans who jammed the streets of little Havana in Miami in support of their fellow countrymen, blacks too should rally behind supporting each others’ efforts to break forth with human dignity, justice and freedom, and the basic necessities needed to live a decent life in today’s world.

The op-ed paints Cuban American activism in support of Mariel as a positive phenomenon that should inspire African American action. The author advocates the unity of a larger black community beyond the United States. Her final thoughts affirm a reevaluation of Pan-Africanism, proclaiming, “together we will win.”²⁴ The following month the same author wrote a feature story more directly focused on Afro-Cubans, titled “Afro-Cuban Refugee Point of View.” The feature discusses how becoming resettled in the United States had been more difficult for Afro-Cubans than for their lighter-skinned compatriots. The author recounts what happened when she and an Afro-Cuban friend were shopping in downtown Miami. Her friend reprimanded some white Cuban women in Spanish because they had assumed that the Afro-Cuban friend was an African American and had warned that the two black women should be watched closely because they might steal something. The recounting of this story helps bring to life the similar experiences blacks regardless of national origin have in the United States.²⁵

The editorial “Cuban Refugees and Haitian Refugees,” discussed earlier, similarly acknowledges that blacks existed among the Cuban refugees and that they were discriminated against in the same ways as other blacks. While the editorial focuses on the differential treatment of Cubans and Haitians by the government, it also notes that very few black Cubans could be found in Miami because they were often singled out as having criminal records. A larger proportion of them were sent to federal correctional institutions or refugee sites such as the Elgin Air Force Base in Florida and Fort Chaffee in Arkansas. By making these connections about the similar criminalization of various black peoples in the United States, the author makes space for black Cubans to be joined with other blacks and for African Americans to support them.²⁶

The idea that nonblack Cubans were rejecting black Cubans was also picked up by the Times. In a letter to the editor, “South Florida’s Goal: Keep out Haitians,” the writer was unsympathetic to the Cuban case except in critiquing the differential treatment of black and white Cubans. In a discussion of city plans to take down the tent cities and house unemployable Marielitos in African American neighborhoods such as Opa-locka and Allapattah, the letter writer asks, “Why not build housing in Hialeah [a Cuban neighborhood] or around 701 SW 27th Ave? It appears as if the non-black Cubans are shunning the black ones that were brought here. They certainly are not getting the assistance and placement that their non-black brothers receive.” Although the author does not find resemblance among African Americans and white Cubans, she points to the ways the local government and the exile community appeared to be making choices to place the people they found to be undesirable, who were also black, in African American neighborhoods. Such moves, according to the letter, demonstrate white disdain of African Americans and of black Cubans.²⁷

Although African American and Cuban exile relations have been strained in Miami, the long history of amicable relationships between African Americans and Cubans on the island could be drawn upon to promote solidarity. Nineteenth-century African Americans were aware of racism in Cuba and supported black Cuban struggles (Guridy 2010; Hellwig 1998). Before the Cuban Revolution, many prominent African Americans opposed U.S. involvement in Cuba in solidarity with Cuban blacks. This sentiment was reflected in the African American anti-imperialistic press (Brock and Castañeda Fuertes 1998). Cubans also have historically aligned with African Americans—in the 1930s, famous black Cuban poet Nicolás Guillén and other black Cuban voices sympathized with the plight of African Americans, criticizing U.S. imperialism and racism (Guridy 2010). Afro-Cuban immigrants who arrived in the United States in the nineteenth century and during the Jim Crow era found solace from white racism among African Americans as they built relationships with them (Greenbaum 2002; Guridy 2010; Mirabal 2003, 1998).

My interviews with Afro-Cuban immigrants reveal a continued tendency for Afro-Cubans to align themselves with African Americans to some degree in the present day.²⁸ The majority of respondents reported being mistaken as belonging to other groups—mostly African American, Puerto Rican, or Dominican but also Jamaican, Belizean, Brazilian, Panamanian, Trinidadian, Bahamian, Guyanese, Haitian, and African. Because they are often thought to be from these groups that share significant African heritage, Afro-Cubans are aware of their inclusion in a larger African diaspora. Contrary to research on immigrants of African descent, which highlights their desires to dissociate from African Americans (Bailey 2000, 2001; Duany 2005; Landale and Oropesa 2002; Waters 1999), these respondents seemed to look at this connection as a matter of fact and were not offended when people associated them with other black peoples.

For example, forty-one-year-old Lucy, who lives in Los Angeles and came to the United States in the early 1990s, is often mistaken as a member of other ethnic groups, based on her color. She said that in Cuba she would be considered a mulata, but in the United States people often think she is Puerto Rican or African American. She says, “That does not offend me [when people confuse me with another ethnicity] either. Because where did all black people come from? We are descendants of our ancestors who were slaves and through our past relatives.” For the most part, many respondents distinguished black Cuban pride, but, like Lucy, they also acknowledged a brother- or sisterhood with other blacks because of their perceived racial features.

Some respondents spoke about preferring to socialize with African Americans rather than white Cubans or other Latinos because they felt more accepted by them or felt they had more in common with them. Ariane, a then twenty-two-year-old living in Los Angeles who came to the United States in 2004, noted how African Americans respond to him when he walks on the street and that they address him as they would a fellow African American. When they hear his accent, however, they are caught off guard and categorize him as not truly “black.” Despite this, he explained, “I feel more comfortable with black Americans ’cause, I don’t know if because it’s the skin or I don’t know but I feel, you know, we go out, we hang out, we talk, you know. It’s almost the same [as with Cubans], you know.” Ariane was hard at work earning his general equivalency diploma (GED) and working at a local Japanese restaurant, but when he is not working he enjoys playing basketball and dancing at a local dance club, where he often “shows off” his dance style. He complained about the freedom that is lost in the United States because one must always be preoccupied with work to be able to pay the rent and have basic necessities; he sees other groups as caught in that trap. He relates to the lifestyle of many of his African American classmates in his GED class who also include music and dance in their socializing. A voluntary association with African Americans could also be seen among interviewees who adopted African American Vernacular English (AAVE) in their speech.²⁹ As we will see in Chapter 5, using terms of endearment that made African Americans and Afro-Cubans part of an “us,” such as referring to an African American potential coworker as a “brother” or criticizing nonblacks for being racists while still going after black “sisters” also signifies moves by some Afro-Cubans to align themselves with African Americans.

Nancy, the only interviewee who arrived in the United States before 1980 (in the late 1960s), illustrated how Afro-Cubans can also draw on African American cultural symbols along with Cuban ones to fight against the psychic challenges that come from bring denigrated for being black. She talked about how she responded to her U.S.-born granddaughter about the racism the child experienced at school:

One day, my granddaughter told me what happened to her in school … and [my granddaughter] replied that “I met another kid that told me that I was black.” And … I told her … “Remember the greatest ones in our lives, how many were black?” “What was Martin Luther King?” He was not green. He was black but still he was Martin Luther King. “And, then, there’s [Celia Cruz]. Look at the people who are legends, Nat King Cole.…. You are black, sweetie! Being black is not a problem unless people make it into one. Even blacks have come out with songs about being black and using the term. There are no good songs about the “white Blondie”; it’s always about blacks—“La Negra Tomasa.” We even dominate in that. Tell me where are the songs about the whitey with the green eyes or the spicy whitey, or the freckled one. But, there is “La Negra Tomasa.” Then, Celia [Cruz] came out with the song “La Negra Tiene Tumbao” [The Black Woman Has Rhythm]. Take note: there are no songs about the white woman with punch or musical style. None.

Nancy’s humorous response to her granddaughter draws on the connections between people of African descent as well as the assertions of pride that come through in songs by Latinos where “la Negra,” or the black woman, is praised. In her response, she also reclaims figures of sexualized black women’s bodies from the songs and imaginations of white Cuban men, advancing a black/Afro-Latina feminist politics. Nancy shows the kinds of connections Afro-Cubans and other Afro-Latinas make to navigate the U.S. racial system that vilifies blackness, regardless of country of origin.

As history as well as the current context shows, bonds are forged between African Americans and Afro-Cubans (and black Haitians) as a matter of surviving anti-black racism, as a matter of principle and notions of pride, and because of interpersonal affinity. In the Miami Times, the majority of articles that brought readers’ attention to black Cubans similarly express the idea that all black peoples in the African diaspora should unite, or at least they imply a natural link between black peoples. These connections disrupt the Cuban/black binary and also attest to the realities of anti-black racism, which fosters Pan-African idealism. Cubans complicate the idea of race alone being the factor for creating political bonds because in reality Cubans are white, black, and “mixed.” Yet, in the Times, only identifiably black Cubans were included within the Afro-diasporic family. Appeals to Afro-diasporic identities that bonded African Americans with Haitians were not, for the most part, extended to all Cubans. Thus, the African American stance toward Cuban newcomers as depicted in the newspaper was limited by the black/white racial frame. Still, we are reminded that the desire and need for black Americans and black immigrants to bond together on the basis of a black identity is due not to a simplistic embrace of race as an organizing principle in society but to the fact of anti-black racism and discrimination that black people from various national origins experience in the United States.