I.2.8 DIGITAL ARCHIVE 840539
Jean Casimir (born 1938), a Haitian political scientist and former ambassador to Washington, D.C. (1991–97), wrote this text in 1969 for the magazine Mundo Nuevo. This Parisian journal, edited by Uruguayan critic Emir Rodríguez Monegal, published new literature by Latin American writers, as well as critical texts about Latin American culture and politics from 1966 to 1971. Casimir, who received his political-science training at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de Mexico [UNAM], ultimately calls on his readers to think of Latin America as a politically radical and culturally independent entity that resisted North American dominance. Cognizant of the fact that the region’s diversity is an obstacle to unity, Casimir ponders the fundamental question: Do the countries that comprise Latin America have enough in common to be considered as a group? This selection is a translation of the Spanish-language text as it first appeared in Mundo Nuevo [(Paris), no. 36 (June 1969), 35–38].
THE DIVERSITY IN OUR IMMEDIATE SURROUNDINGS often prevents us from seeing the unity that might exist further afield. This can make us overemphasize short-lived differences of opinion and view as a fixture what is in fact fluid and thus fleeting. Do the dark-skinned nations to the south of the Rio Grande have enough in common to be considered a group? And, could the features they share be described as Latin?
There is indeed a group of neighboring countries that were once conquered, organized, and controlled by Latin people. The Dutch and the British were also active here, as they were in North America. But our region was unquestionably under the influence of Latin powers that conquered and organized the Native, African, and European populations and imposed their own standards.
The facial features among the inhabitants of some of the countries in this subcontinent indicate extensive racial intermingling, or mestizaje. This is the subtle side effect of a process of Westernization that often led to a misunderstanding of modernization. In spite of certain attempts at “de-culturing,” the African influence that led to distinctions of various kinds has been neatly and surreptitiously retained in the modern versions of cultural expression. Underneath it all, there is a homogeneous substratum that is European, mainly Spanish and Portuguese, but there are also more recent additions of Germans, seasoned with later Mediterranean and Eastern arrivals. Are we a particular species of Latins, more or less closely related to our first cousins, or are we totally different from the Saxons?
The answer is obvious. A person from Cuzco or Tegucigalpa is entirely different from a Frenchman or a Spaniard, just as the latter are nothing like people from Finland or Austria. What qualities, then, did those who settled among us retain from the Motherland as transatlantic migration continued at a lively pace?
A century and a half separates us from our Latin ancestors. During that period of time we have come under the influence—indirect, it is true, but powerful nonetheless—of Anglo-Saxon hegemony. In order to maintain a certain degree of Latin-ness, our ruling classes should, first of all, preserve certain characteristics of the Old Country. Of course, they are not Saxon, so other than having only vague and distant recollections of those old ballrooms they are too preoccupied with the specific problems they face to be particularly concerned about the defense of any Latin traditions.
If the name of the subcontinent is meant to imply that it owes its cultural characteristics to its Latin origins, this is misleading. Despite well-known exceptions in the area of fine arts, our lives are—undoubtedly—influenced by both Latin and Western worlds.
Furthermore, some demonstration of success would be required from those who would lead us; even if the class that replaced Iberian domination were still Latin. No one believes that the two Congos [Brazzaville and Kinshasa] are French, let alone Latin, simply because the French and the Belgians spent some time there. Colonies were established for the purpose of exploitation in Latin America too, as they were in Africa. But, to what extent did the foreign culture penetrate?
There was a time when the inhabitants of this subcontinent were just as Latin as the conquerors, buccaneers, and new settlers. However, they certainly were not from the cream of Latin culture and civilization. However, the flow of immigration diminished after the first criollo [Latin American-born] generation appeared. Links were reestablished by the spread of reading and writing, but not exactly with the Latin world.
The truth is that both the Latin and Saxon cultures are strangers to the reality and meaning of Latin American, which is a product of its own history. Whether a bastard or a hybrid, the culture is of our own creation. [For this reason:] Voodoo is from Haiti; macumba rites are Brazilian; Mexico has its rancheras songs; the tango is Argentinean; just as Fidel Castro is Cuban or [Alfredo] Stroessner is from Paraguay.
Ultimately, there is nothing to unite us in the Latin world other than our use of the same language. There is a definite family relationship between the languages, even though an updating by linguists should be initiated. Meanwhile, language is the bearer of Latin American realities, specific problems, and orientations that reflect the region’s historical evolution since the sixteenth century. The name for this sub-region where we live refers to a linguistic reality that is far less dominant than its cultural homogeneity might lead one to believe. From this perspective, that dominance is due to the fact that, up to the end of World War II, all independent countries in this sub-region spoke Latin languages. Whenever the terms Hispanic America, Iberian America, or Latin America are used, they help to blur a cultural homogeneity that reveals the ignorance of the dominant classes with regard to the variety and diversity of their sphere of influence.
Nevertheless, if a common denominator can be found between Mexico and Brazil, or Nicaragua and Argentina, it would not be limited to the use of a language or a family of languages. What, then, unites us? According to some writers, a Paulistano [citizen of the city of São Paulo] is much closer to a New Yorker than to an inhabitant of Northeastern Brazil. Why, then, do we insist on talking about Brazil as a homogeneous whole and, a fortiori, of Latin America as wholeness?
The history-language connection is not a simple issue. Europe is a maze of languages. They thrive in areas that are smaller than the smallest Latin American province. However, the road that these nations have traveled and the current socioeconomic structures they share are undoubtedly conducive to this kind of unity. The European endeavor—if latest trends can be relied upon—is searching for a political formula to support that unity.
It should be remembered, moreover, that these countries and other Western nations—from the beginning of the modern era to the present—have taken their turn in the world hegemony. They have established themselves as the center of their own universe. The relationships they enjoy among themselves are not controlled by foreign powers beyond their continental frontiers. Goods and ideas flow across their borders and create a true Western culture. Those who participate in the economic alliance have established similar social structures, surprisingly similar political systems, and a unique common pool of knowledge.
Latin America, however, consists of a group of nations that are geographically remote from one another. Mexico and Argentina appear to ignore each other. Panama and Colombia seem to live separate lives. Latin America looks like a conglomerate of unevenly developed regions. Centuries of progress block the road from Mexico City to Chiapas, or stand between La Rioja and Buenos Aires. In backward conditions such as these, the official language coexists with slang and dialects that are as marginal as they are persistent.
But all this chaos is an integral part of the external dependence that channels their international relations in only one direction. Latin American nations have therefore adopted social structures that are strongly endorsed by the Western world. More precisely, they are representative of a Western presence, an exploited land in the same mold of domination: the wretched children of an aristocratic family.
The type of political and economic domination varies from country to country and from one period to another, according to the changing interests of the Western powers. Once the Spanish and Portuguese demands were satisfied, the subcontinent yielded mainly to British and subsequently to North American imperatives. But we should not forget that all these incursions led to an establishment of social structures that were built on solid historical foundations.
The origins of these colonial relationships can be traced to colonial times, and they defined each nation once and for all. The Iberian influence was layered over the history of the earlier peoples, each with its particular characteristics. Successive changes in dependent relationships affected a constellation of nations that were already different from what they had once been. This [national imprint], in turn, stems from old stimuli that mirror both the preferences and interests of the ruling classes.
It is therefore not surprising to find that Latin languages are widely spoken in spite of the indisputable Saxon hegemony. The backlash in support of the Spanish language in Puerto Rico—where the Anglo-Saxon presence is indisputable—confirms this point of view. Similarly, in places where immigrants dominate an extremely dense Native population, the latter must learn new forms of social and economic organization, a new set of values, and a new language. If it is unable to dominate the entire population under its control, the new authority reveals a lack of power, and in that case the new language is of no consequence. In this scenario, the Native populations keep using their own dialects and are not initiated into the alien culture. The persistence of certain languages that compete in discrete regions with the Latin ones do not manage to explain the Swiss or Belgian cases or the role of European languages in general. Latin American unity of any kind is based on quite different criteria than those of Europe.
Something very similar happens in terms of regional inequalities. As is well known, until the second half of the twentieth century, Latin America’s development was totally focused on the outside world. Based on their natural resources and the potential of the ruling classes, these nations worked at trying to satisfy the demands of foreign markets. Some countries were industrialized while others were not, depending on labor conditions or changes in the emerging social classes and how they fit into redefined forms of domination. It is also true that some regions were modernized and some were not. In spite of the resulting diversity, a single historical process caused these disparities, thus explaining them. In this sense, São Paulo is not so different from Northeastern Brazil, and Mexico [is not so different] from Bolivia; they are the well fed or the starving children of the same parents. So, we see that linguistic unity, with all its variations, adapts to the socioeconomic geography of dislocation. Language defines a nation or a group of nations. Both indicate the presence of a relatively distant past and the development of new forms.
If we study Latin America from the perspective of central economies and dominant societies, we can discern an order in the process that divides the continent. In Mexico, the town of Oriental (in the state of Puebla) has no link whatsoever to Pinotepa Nacional (in the state of Oaxaca). Both places, however, have a great deal in common, since they are controlled by the same power center. Guatemala and Chile are actually neighbors, united by a bridge called Washington, D.C. Once the environment shared by Mexico City, Oriental, and Pinotepa develops, or the link is established between Washington, Guatemala, and Chile, the various parts involved can establish their own modified relationships. The dynamics of their evolution can then be determined. In fact, certain sociological studies and political doctrines identify assumptions that cannot be ignored.
New organizational structures deny the lack of economic articulation within a country so that the entire cultural apparatus tends toward homogeneity. Latin American unity is thus created through the process of denial concerning the subcontinental break-up. Our problems are no longer national. If we could have an intelligent strategy to undermine and destroy the dependence to which we have been condemned—which also defines us in spite of ourselves and splinters our reality—we would choose a common path, an organizing principle, cultural unity.
This process is no different from the European Union with regard to the long-term options available to its population. However, the distribution of variables and homogeneity indexes are different in the central countries as compared to peripheral areas. Though we are a homogeneous bloc in terms of countries with central economies, we still possess certain traits that distinguish us from peripheral countries in Asia or Africa. Our close geographical proximity has allowed certain nations from the center to enter our countries with ease and has led us to modify our dependent relationships in unison. We are all within the same sphere of influence where the dominant political and economic powers can be identified by their characteristic traits.
As nations, we come from the same stock. We thrive on a common dependence and are conscious of a lack of articulation that is more or less pronounced depending on the phase of development we have reached. Within our sphere everything seems fragmented and diversified. But a single and identical structure of international domination—represented within our borders by our ruling classes—unites us and homogenizes our differences. We cannot rid ourselves of it—even if getting rid of it were an option. That can only be done if the unity arises from within us and is consciously developed.
Are we to remain Latin until the end of our evolution? Are we a version of Latin-ness created by the New World? For this to be true, the Latin/Saxon opposition must be maintained. Our freedom from North America, however, implies radical changes and an evolution in the very heart of the hegemonic nation. Though this opposition hints that it might be real, that possibility fades as time goes by.
But in any case, who cares about the chosen name; Latin America is categorically one; one in her past, one in her current ordeal, and one in her future undertakings. [Facing] reality in motion—today people call it a period of transition—[America] is experiencing a time when her ruling classes will either change or be eliminated; that is, a time when her economic development must be shared with her population. What is happening is an attempt at a national and subcontinental integration that will create a cultural focus whose goal is to shift people into a new reality where they do not have to imitate the dominant culture.