During the last year or so I have been analyzing the internal economy of Paraense slaves in sugar and cacao plantations. This consists of the economic activities the slaves did for their own profit, like cultivating their own grounds and orchards, or working for wages. This study is part of my dissertation, where I am analyzing how Paraense slaves and maroons transited from slavery to freedom, and how they defended their autonomy as peasants in the decades after abolition. In this short entry I will enunciate some of my findings so far.
In the first place, because the produce of Paraense plantations was remarkably varied, the slaves engaged in the production and collections of multiple items, both manufactured and not. In the aftermath of the Cabanagem revolt plantations using slave labor were one of the few agents capable of satisfying the multiple needs of the regional economy. This is what the structure of exports in the first two decades after Cabanagem shows: plantation produce, like cacao, rice, sugar, cotton, and manioc flour played an important role in the economic recovery of the region after the turmoil of the revolutionary years. Therefore, the slaves practiced multiple economic activities, a very useful lesson for those who had the project of eventually becoming free.
In the second place, through the analysis of travel accounts and post-mortem inventories, a methodology suggested in the past by historians like Ciro Cardoso and Barbara Weinstein, I have shown how Paraense slaves had the opportunity of cultivating manioc grounds, occasionally engaging in wage labor, hunting nearby forests, and surprisingly, extracting rubber. This activity requires taping hevea trees scattered in the forest for long periods of time, which does not sound as an activity characterized by close supervision. These are activities that speak of a high degree of autonomy, and indeed this is the big picture emerging from the study of Paraense slavery in the second half of the 1800s.

Finally, two historical forces eroded the institution of slavery in Pará. On the one hand, the slaves’ bid for freedom as expressed in the development of their internal economy and other elements. It is clear that the slaves’ social and economic life resembled that of peasants well before abolition, sometimes almost leading them to enjoy a de facto freedom. On the other hand, the gradual process of emancipation spreading across Brazil eventually arrived to this Northern state, although chattel slavery did not collapse here as easily as one might have foreseen based on the quantitative importance of this institution. Paraense masters stubbornly clung to their slaves until approximately 1885, and new slaves may have entered the state between 1871 (when the Free Womb Law was promulgated) and that year. In sum, the internal economy of the slaves played a significant role in wearing down the basis of the slaveholding regime.

Berlin’s use of different generations of slaves as a template for his chronological narrative is a very telling choice. It indicates that he is very concerned with the slaves’ agency as a historical force shaping slavery. Indeed this is the central idea throughout the book: slaves shaped the nature of slavery in an ongoing struggle and negotiation with the masters under different conditions and in different time periods. From the autonomy and the Atlantic cosmopolitanism enjoyed by some slaves and by freedmen during the seventeenth-century Charter generations to the subjection to harsh labor regimes in tobacco, rice, or cotton plantations in later periods, African American slaves always attempted to improve their working and living conditions in negotiations that ranged from the most apparently trivial aspect of daily life to the en masse enrollment in Northern armies during the Civil War.

Another argument emerges clearly throughout the book: slavery had many different faces across the centuries, so perhaps we could talk of many “slaveries” instead of a single “slavery.” While seventeenth-century slaves living in Atlantic port cities lived in urban environments, were often born in Africa or in Europe, and had a vigorous collective life and cultural institutions, nineteenth-century slaves living in Deep South cotton plantations had a substantially different experience. And the same goes for slaves employed in the Upper South mixed farming at the beginning of the nineteenth century – their experiences were different from the former two groups. One could add that, overall, there was a global trend towards becoming “provincials, linked to place, land, and kin,” (p.202) at the same time that the American economy developed and the nation spread Westwards, especially in the South.

Meanwhile, despite the abolitionist wave that arrived during the revolutionary era to the Northern states, especially to New England, Berlin argues that the North “acquiesced” with the expansion and maintenance of slavery up to the 1800s. There were a few exceptions, however, like black northern communities, which “developed an internal coherence in ideology, leadership, and institutions that stood in opposition to the plantation society from which these communities drew many of their members” (232). Even in freedom, the descendants of African American slaves fought against the peculiar institution.

In the end, slavery collapsed with the Civil War due not only to the action of federal troops from the outside, but also to the pressure that the slaves themselves exerted from the inside at every step of the process (259). As shown in the Epilogue, after emancipation the freedom generations projected their struggle for autonomy, family, religion, and education into the future, but some of the contended issues between slaves and masters now continued to be present in terms of struggles over labor. This is how the epilogue deftly connects the book’s central argument to the main issues discussed in the literature about post-emancipation in the Americas. Specialists in American slavery and African American history will probably find some points of contention, but from my point of view this book is excellent.

The ‘peasant breach’ is the historical process by which Brazilian slaves managed to spend part of their time working as peasants, cultivating their own provision grounds. They permanently bargained for more time and more rights to decide what, when, and where to cultivate their plots within the limits of the plantations, thus creating a ‘breach’ in the slave system.

According to Ciro Cardoso, however, this does not mean that the process weakened significantly the power of the slave system. He argues that the metaphor of the split in the wall shattering the whole building is invalid to express the relation between the ‘peasant breach’ and the broader slave system. While he concurs with Nigel Bolland in this sense, other authors such as Reid Andrews state that the struggles for the right to work at the provisions grounds anticipated post-colonial disputes over land.

In any case, during the next two months I am going to show how the ‘peasant breach’ took much relevance in Pará, where several crews of slaves took control of the land in old sugar engenhos once the master fled to richer areas or simply died. This control, however, hardly received legal sanction, being instead a ‘de facto’ situation. In the decades after the end of slavery, several landowners would try to break this balance between autonomy and legal right to landownership, thus generating responses by the descendants of the slaves.

Afro-Brazilian Woman Selling Different Crops

My first task is going to be the study of slave life and family in the engenhos of the Guajarine area between approximately 1850 and 1888. This study is necessary because we need to clarify the origins of the communities that rose from the ashes of slavery in the Guajarine area, once the estates with slaves entered a crisis caused –it seems –by the emergence of rubber as the main export product in the last decades of 1800. Using post-mortem inventories and the state governor’s annual reports, I will discuss how the interplay between the characteristics of the sugar engines and the slaves’ bid for autonomy and community generated the formation of black rural communities.

There aren’t many studies on slavery in this region, so I cannot wait to start.

Recently published, this study on Italian emigration to the Amazon applies wisely the main findings of current historiography on migration to the study of a small, but very relevant, migrant community in Northern Brazil.

According to Emmi, not a historian, but a sociologist, the timing of the arrival of Italians to the amazon cannot be explained simply by structural changes, whether in Italy or in Northern Brazil. Rather, the fundamental factor in explaining why this migration went well beyond the end of the rubber boom is the networks that families and acquaintances formed in the Amazon. Obviously, the late industrialization of the region of origin of the Italians who migrated, and the econmic niches available at the port of destination, are preconditions to understand the phenomenon, but personal decisions were guided by the information (and invitations, from 1930 on) received from successful parents in Brazil.

The different occupations and the places of settlement that the inmigrants chose is likewise very relevant. Rather than staying in Belém, several families traveled upriver and established themselves in the Lower Amazon region and in the state of Amazonas (in cities like Maues, Parintins). Most of the migrants belonged to a few families (Mileo, Vallinoto, Priante, Nicolau, Cioffi, Calderaro, Sarubbi) which came to the Amazon with a variable but existing capital, which allowed them to fill some occupation niches, mainly in commerce. Many of those families created commercial houses, following the model of the ‘casas de aviadores’ that abounded during the rubber era. However, this period ended in 1913, and large numbers of Italians arrived in the 1920s. Thus, Italian migrants worked and traded with cattle, Brazil nuts, juta, soap fabrication, and various extractive activities.

Not all immigration dates from this period. The Italians started to arrive by the middle- to late-nineteenth century, during the late Brazilian Empire. In that case, their arrival was supported by the Paraense elite, who deemed the immigrants the proper labor force to populate the region and foster agricultural production. While the arrival of these groups of migrants is proved by a large set of documents, the occupation of their descendants is not clear at all. Apparently, most Italians who went to the agricultural colonies ended up leaving or migrating to the cities. This is why the second part of this book, which deals with the post-rubber boom, becomes much more relevant than the first.

The book fills a gap in the historiography of the region, because Italian inmigrants appear prominently in different economic activities that developed in Baixo Amazonas after the rubber boom. However, the historians who read ‘Italianos na Amazônia’ will feel disappointed, because the author has not fulfilled the promising opportunities that her research materials gave her. The family trajectories, for example, have been reconstructed using sources provided by the same families. Why, then, does the author not deal more carefully with those trajectories? One has the sense that instead of using sociological techniques of research, Emmi could have reflected the richness of her sources by tracing more detailed portraits of the trajectories of the different families. Nonetheless, the book will be a very useful material for research on migration and the regional economy.

Here it comes, with a few modifications:

Del esclavo romano a la plantación azucarera: la esclavitud en la Edad Media.

“1392, agosto, 21, 28. Barcelona. Venta del esclavo Puig, neófito, antes sarraceno, negro, de 25 años, por el precio de 36 libras, entre Pere Mallol, mercader, ciudadano de Barcelona, vendedor, y Francesc Muntornés, barquero, ciudadano de Barcelona, comprador, mediante Guillem Calaf, corredor público de la ciudad de Barcelona”.

Este tipo de documentos notariales se encuentraban en casi cualquier ciudad europea o africana durante la Edad Media: es la certificación de la venta de un esclavo. Institución heredada del Imperio Romano, la esclavitud perdurará en estos siglos en el Mundo Medieval, aunque con algunos cambios importantes, como los mercados en donde se conseguían esclavos o las ocupaciones a que se les sometía. Finalmente, en la antesala del Mundo Moderno, los cambios producidos nos llevarán a la imagen de la esclavitud que todos conocemos: la de los esclavos africanos en las grandes plantaciones.

La esclavitud ha sido una institución presente en casi todas las culturas complejas del mundo, en una forma u otra. Desde el nacimiento de las sociedades urbanas, la encontramos casi siempre presente y con diferencias más o menos importantes en Mesopotamia, en Siria, en la India, en la China Imperial, en la Grecia clásica y en la Roma Imperial, en los Estados africanos, en el Islam y en la Europa Medieval, aunque siempre con una característica común: al esclavo o esclava siempre se le considera una posesión, prácticamente “un objeto” con algunos derechos, un ente del cual el amo puede disponer casi sin limitaciones para la actividad que más le plazca.

Los esclavos fueron una de las mercancías con la que más se comerció durante la Edad Media en todo el Mediterráneo, África y Oriente Medio. Las zonas en donde se capturaban para el comercio europeo cambiaron, y pasaron de la periferia de la Europa continental a África. Variaron las formas en que las personas libres podían pasar a ser esclavas y también las actividades en que se empleaban, pasando de ser los campesinos en el Bajo Imperio Romano a ser solamente esclavos de servicio doméstico, y finalmente de nuevo mano de obra para plantaciones en el siglo XV.

Sin embargo, hallamos esa continuidad en el estatus del esclavo, esa condición de “herramienta parlante” (expresión que utilizó el patricio romano Varrón en el siglo I dC) que hace que nos refiramos a la misma institución siempre, con las variaciones que sean. Tal vez existe otra continuidad: la de los esclavizados al rebelarse contra su condicion, de diferentes maneras y en diferentes formas. Empecemos nuestro recorrido por la Alta y la Baja Edad Media, dejémonos guiar por las caravanas que cruzaban el Sahara, visitemos Al-Andalus o los reinos germánicos y crucemos el Mediterráneo acompañados de un mercader veneciano o genovés para conocer cómo fue la esclavitud en el Mundo Medieval.

La ambigua herencia imperial

Para el caso que nos ocupa, el del Mundo Medieval, hay que buscar los origenes de la esclavitud en el legado del mundo Romano. La Roma Republicana y la Roma Imperial, y Grecia antes que ella, fueron civilizaciones esclavistas, es decir, que no sólo contaban con esclavos, si no que además basaban su economía en el trabajo esclavo a gran escala. Por lo tanto, los romanos contaban con un corpus legal muy desarrollado en lo referente a la esclavitud, lo que les servía para tener esta institución bien reglada legalmente.

De hecho, además de las leyes escritas, del desarrollo tecnológico y del latín, los romanos dejaron a Europa como herencia esta institución singular, que hallamos bien presente en el momento en que las sociedades del Norte de Europa comienzan a emigrar y forman los reinos germánicos, a partir de los siglos III y IV de nuestra era. Para los romanos, los esclavos hacían todo tipo de tareas. Los encontramos en el campo, como mano de obra trabajando en las fincas rurales, aunque también los hallamos en tareas domésticas de ambos sexos, o como mecánicos o cocineros. Algunos fueron educadores o médicos. Por supuesto,muchos fueron esclavos o esclavas sexuales en las casas patricias. Incluso existía un grupo de esclavos especiales, la familia Caesaris, que formaban el personal de la Casa Imperial y se ocupaban de importantes tareas de gestión administrativa.

De epoca romana datan los horribles collares metálicos (como el que portaba Tony Curtis en el film Espartaco, de Stanley Kubrick) con la inscripción “T.M.Q.F.”, tene me quia fugio (deténme ya que soy un fugitivo), hecho que demuestra que ni siquiera entonces se sometían todos ellos, y probablemente ni siquiera una cantidad apreciable, a tan abominable régimen de posesión de la persona. En esta época los esclavos eran sobretodo prisioneros de las guerras del Imperio o gentes de la periferia europea, como eslavos, galos, hispanos, tracios y otros. Con la cristianización se prohibió que los cristianos lo fueran, aunque es probable que esta prohibición se desoyera a menudo.

El caso es que tanto en la Europa continental como en Bizancio la esclavitud perduró, si bien no resultó inmune a los cambios experimentados a raíz de la descomposición del Imperio y la llegada de los Pueblos del Norte (las famosas y mal llamadas “invasiones bárbaras”). Poco a poco, al desaparecer los grandes mercados y la escasez de mano de obra, la esclavitud fue desapareciendo, y los esclavos pasaron a ser siervos, trabajadores rurales cautivos, ligados a la tierra. Hemos llegado a los inicios de la Edad Media.

(to be continued)

João José Reis uses a rich set of judicial sources to analyze the significance, the causes and the consequences of the Malê rebellion in 1835. “Bahian society breathed politics, shook in unrest, and the black community was not outside this process. (114)” Numerous revolts led by the army, slaves, republican politicians or simply supporters of a larger autonomy for Bahia occurred in the early 1800s. In addition, a permanent economic crisis aggravated the living situation of the inhabitants, both free and enslaved, of the Recôncavo, a zone where slavery was spread through all social classes (12). In this sense, Reis coincides with Stuart Schwartz in that the relation master-slave was the matrix of the Bahian society and economy (Reis 3; Schwartz, Sugar Plantations in the Formation of Brazilian Society, 466).

Reis’ main thesis makes reference to the causes of the revolt. He discards the thesis that the Malês were fierce separatists (111), as has been argued before. Instead, for him the ethnic identity of the Africans “constituted the focal point for their break with the white man’s world. (231)” This argument articulates the development of the book. First, Reis analyzed the role the Islam played in the uprising, as well as the events themselves and the goals of the revolt. A set of Africans (both free and slaves) who taught and spread Islamic ideas among the African population of Salvador is doubtless fundamental. But the most interesting part is when Reis analyzes how the ideas contained in the Koran were especially suit for slaves, given the power of written amulets on protection, victory in the revolt and other areas of importance in the lives of the oppressed (102). “Slaves and freedmen flocked to Islam in search of spiritual comfort and hope. They needed it to establish some order and dignity in their lives. (110)” In a time of economic crisis and political unrest, Islam had to be appealing as an alternative worldview because of its sympathy for the exploited, as it had proved to be in Africa. Nevertheless, the goal of the revolt was not a Bahia for Muslims, but a Bahia for the Africans. How does the author prove this?

To begin with, the author traces a clear distinction between African and Afro-Brazilian slaves. The latter, Reis argues, did not risk open defiance as often as the former (142). Not that Creole slaves never revolted, but the forms of their rebellion were different. Unlike African slaves, creoles had not experienced the trauma of enslavement, and were more prone to be emancipated. The ethnic origins inside of Africa of the slaves who revolted are likewise relevant here: most of them were Nagôs, and thus came from the area of the Oyo empire, where several wars and periods of unrest had taken place in the last decades of the 1700s and first of the 1800s. “West Africans were not as attracted to European institutions and ideas” as Angolans were (151). In addition to the explanation based on the African past, two more elements are highlighted by Reis: the inability of African slaves to form families, and the experiences of labor. Caused by the constraints of slavery and by the separation between Afro-Brazilians and Africans, families were substituted for ethnic and religious groups (186). The world of urban work also acted as a catalyst for ethnic identity. This chapter relies more heavily on travel accounts than others, but it seems clear that the urban contacts between slaves and free workers had to be a permanent source of inspiration for slaves. Some ethnic groups also tended to be clustered in specific occupations (165).

For the masters and the rest of the elite of Salvador, the revolt was traumatic. Discovering a conspiracy in the city of Salvador in which the slaves proved to be able to write and pass this knowledge to each other, in which African religions were present so clearly, and where there was a clearly designed plan for an armed revolt, was frightening. Africans were literally expelled from Brazil, the slaves punished, and the laws regulating the lives of the slaves were hardened (203, 223). This chapter remains a little blurry, I must say, because almost half of the sentences of the slaves are unknown. Nonetheless, the rights of the masters were enforced against excessive punishments (227).

In my opinion this book is a good example of how to extract a large amount of information from a limited set of sources. Aside of the information about labor that comes (or that does not come from) the sources, there is another point that remains a little unclear in Reis’ study: the goals of the rebellion. Obviously, the sources are limited in this sense because of their nature, but analyzing a rebellion without a relatively clear idea about its goals is a delicate operation. Overall though, his argument is convincing, and the book truly illuminates the world of urban slaves in Bahia.

Éste es un excelente estudio de los mocambos (otra designación para quilombos o comunidades cimarronas) del río Trombetas, en Pará, Brasil. El autor, un excelente amigo a quien tuve la inmensa suerte de tener como profesor y prácticamente director de tesis en Barcelona, produjo un libro que resulta enormemente rico sobretodo por las tradiciones orales recogidas en él. Fue además un libro que desde mi punto de vista consolidó la ola moderna de libros sobre quilombos en Brasil. Obviamente existen muchos libros clásicos sobre quilombos producidos en Cuba, Colombia, Haití, Jamaica, y otros países, pero el trabajo de Ruíz-Peinado (junto probablemente a la colección de ensayos de Richard Price, e inspirado por las actividades de Javier Laviña) reabrió el campo para los estudios sobre quilombos a partir de la década de 2000.

El libro tiene varios capítulos introductorios que tratan sobre esclavitud, las relaciones entre Brasil y África y sobre la región de Bajo Amazonas, para entrar después en la formación y desarrollo de los mocambos del Trombetas y el Erepecurú. Combinando fuentes orales y escritas, Luigi profundiza en el significado que los mocambos tuvieron no sólo para las elites locales, sino también para sus propios descendientes, depositarios de las tradiciones orales que sus antepasados les legaron. Éstas abarcan desde la fundación de los mocambos del Trombetas, que probablemente datan del siglo XVIII, hasta la abolición de la esclavitud, en 1888.

Un libro que abrió caminos.