Liberty and Equality in Caribbean Colombia, 1770–1835. By aline helg.
Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2004. Illustrations. Maps. Figures.
Notes. Bibliography. Index. xiv, 363 pp. Cloth, $59.95. Paper $22.50.
It is an interesting paradox that although Colombia has the third largest population of
African origin in the Western Hemisphere (after Brazil and the United States), its leaders
have consistently portrayed their country as a mestizo nation. On the surface, their
historical dismissal of the black population can be explained by the fact that the majority
of Afro-Colombians are inhabitants of the Caribbean coast and the Pacifi c lowlands,
which are far away and isolated from the highland capital, and that despite the density of
their numbers, they have failed to develop a “collective black- or African-derived identity”
(p. 3). However, Aline Helg is not content with these simplistic rationalizations. In
an effort to uncover more plausible reasons for Colombia’s neglect of its Afro-Caribbean
population, she has written an encyclopedic history of the Caribbean region, which
traces its social, cultural, economic, and political development from the late Bourbon era
through the early national period.
In tackling this intriguing topic, Helg examined an impressive array of archival
documents and secondary sources located in Cartagena, Santa Marta, Bogotá, France,
Spain, Great Britain, and the United States. More specifi cally, she wanted to fi nd the
answers to three questions: First, why did the lower classes of color on the Caribbean
coast not collectively challenge the small white elite during the crucial period of national
formation? Second, why did race not become an organizational category in the region?
And third, why did the Caribbean coast integrate into Andean Colombia without asserting
its Afro-Caribbeanness? In answering these questions, Helg produces a cogently
argued monograph that throws light on a multitude of topics, including Bourbon policies,
frontiers, Indians, race relations, gender roles, the war of independence, and the
sociopolitical views of independence-era leaders such as Simón Bolívar and Francisco de
Paula Santander.
In her conclusion, Helg summarizes her analysis and returns to her initial questions.
She suggests that the Caribbean region’s postcolonial fragmentation and dependency on
Bogotá largely “resulted from people’s continuing identifi cation, throughout the war for
independence and after 1821, with individual cities, towns, and villages rather than with
their province, their region, or New Granada” (p. 238). By opting for legal racial inclusion
from the time of the fi rst independence, the new national leaders embraced a vision
of a racially mixed majority. The decision to grant legal equality and suffrage to all adult
men, regardless of race, helped to erase the “stain of slavery,” even though slavery was not
completely abolished until 1852. The acceptance of mulattoes and blacks into the Caribbean
militias also promoted “a fuzzy yet enduring racial hierarchy,” and the development
of popular support for the Liberal and Conservative Parties further integrated local and
regional Caribbean constituencies into the Colombian nation. As a result, nonwhites
posed no problems to the elite, as long as they did not challenge the socioracial hierarchy
and existing power relations. In the few instances when they did threaten white
supremacy, such as mulatto general José Padilla’s challenge to Bolívar in 1828, nonwhites
were quickly repressed or, as in the case of Padilla, executed. Finally, Helg argues that
“the most abiding reason why the Caribbean region avoided social confl ict and remained
within New Granada despite its racial distinctiveness was the continuing existence of
vast uncontrolled hinterlands and frontiers as well as an unguarded littoral offering viable
alternatives to rebellious and free-spirited individuals” (p. 262).
In one sense, Helg’s book is only the most recent contribution to the boom in
regional studies dealing with Colombia’s Caribbean, which began more than two
decades ago with Orlando Fals Borda’s four-volume Historia doble de la costa (Valencia
Editores, 1979–86). Her placement of her subject within a comparative perspective of
the Americas expands its relevance to researchers beyond those of us who concentrate
on Colombian history. Scholars interested in the interaction of elite and popular classes,
in mestizaje, in slave systems, in the role of women in the wars of independence, and
in frontier societies and Indian resistance will surely fi nd insights that will enhance
their understanding of these complex topics regardless of their country specialization
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