European Ancestry (23andMe)

Although our interests in genealogy and DNA testing are primarily centered on African ancestry, we did find it interesting how our 23andMe results indicate a smaller French ancestry than Ancestry. Given our roots in the Spanish Caribbean, we expected most of our European ancestry to be from the Iberian Peninsula. Yet French was only 0.3% here despite our Ancestry results showing 2%. We're also assuming the Swedish and Swiss, Southwestern German and Western Austrian estimates are catching some of the Germanic or western European ancestry similar to that foud in France? The other surprise, although not really shocking for the Iberian Peninsula, was seeing our Y Chromosome Haplogroup: J-L26. 

Jesuits in the Kingdom of Prester John

Des jésuites au royaume du prêtre Jean (Ethiopie): stratégies, rencontres et tentatives d'implantation, 1495-1633 by Hervé Pennec is another study of the Jesuits and the mission in Ethiopia. Since the scholarly literature and written sources on the topic is vast, Pennec proposes new interpretations and questions about the subject. While revisiting the sources and challenging readers to reconsider the strategies and tactics employed by both the Jesuits and ruler Susenyos, one can see that the topic of the Jesuits in Ethiopia and this transformation of Prester John of myth into the "real" Ethiopia which the Latin West engaged in the Early Modern Period still raises many questions.

The first third of the book begins with Portugal's early relations with the Christian kingdom of Ethiopia, and how Ignatius of Loyola (and others) mistakenly assumed the Abyssinian ruler was ready to submit to Christ. Relying on outdated information from Alvares, plus the issue of Bermudes and his claim to be Roman Catholic patriarch, confusion abounded. Despite being well-informed on some aspects of Ethiopia, the founder of the Jesuit order wrongly believed that Ethiopia was ready for submission to the papacy. Of course, Galadewos had no interest in doing such a thing, and the early wave of Jesuits in Ethiopia found themselves largely on the periphery. Still, despite their small numbers in the second half of the 16th century, Ethiopian religious literature engaged in a Christological written (and oral) debate with the Jesuit missionaries, particularly once Susenyos converted to Catholicism in 1622. Despite their complete lack of success in converting Ethiopian rulers, the early Jesuits did proselytize and preach to Luso-Ethiopians, maintaining Roman Catholicism among descendants of Portuguese in Abyssinia. Moreover, Goa, as the capital of Portuguese India and center of the Jesuit missions in the Orient, was also an early example of a periphery being arguably more important or essential for the survival of the Jesuit mission in Ethiopia than Rome, Portugal and Spain. Goa, much closer to the Jesuit missions and capable of receiving and sending information more quickly, shaped the decisions on personnel who were ultimately sent to Ethiopia. This was no simple matter, since Ottoman control of the Red Sea made the matter more difficult.

Pennec likewise focuses on how the Jesuits, once able to establish a foothold again in 1603, particularly with the arrival of Pero Paes. Whilst it would take several more years before an Ethiopian ruler converted to Catholicism, one can begin to see here the Jesuits establishing stone churches and residences (with Ethiopian workers and at least one Indian). By erecting churches in stone, some beautifully designed, the Jesuits were implanting themselves in the kingdom on a more permanent basis. By doing so, they were also increasingly drawn into what Pennec sees as royally-sponsored churches. Gifts of land (gult), money, supplies, and the involvement of Susenyos in the ceremony culminating the completion of churches was partly a way for Susenyos to assert his power. This meat that Susenyos, and his brother who converted to Catholicism before him, were incorporating the Jesuits into a familiar patter of royal sponsorship and assertions of power, particularly in Gojjam and around Lake Tana. While the Jesuits undoubtedly benefitted from receiving lands, supplies, funds, and elite backers, they were also part of a strategy of Ethiopian rulers to express their power, which even included enlisting the Jesuits (or the masons among them) to construct stone palaces and monumental architecture for him. This complex process was followed by the Jesuit experience in Ethiopia after the conversion of Susenyos. Part of this complex relationship was also due to Susenyos's desire for Spanish troops to be sent to Ethiopia to help him as a prerequisite for converting, while the Jesuits told him he would have to submit to the papacy before any European troops would come to his aid.

With the 1620s, Pero Paes died but Susenyos's conversion gave the Jesuits their legitimacy and renewed the mission by the arrival of more missionaries. Although a failure within ten years, as Susenyos abdicated and his son, Fasiladas, later exiled the Jesuits, one can see this experience as the zenith of the mission. More missionaries on the ground, conversions of more Ethiopians (although the numbers given by the Jesuits are problematic, it seems that Gojjam had more converts), and Susenyos sidelining his Catholic brother as a supporter of the Catholics. Nonetheless, the mission's short-lived success came to an end with Susenyos's abdication. Pennec's study is less focused on this period, highlighting how Paes and d'Almeida's histories of Ethiopia must be analyzed carefully for the ways in which the authors engaged with Ethiopian written sources, especially the royal chronicle on the reign of Susenyos. Paes especially, despite his nearly 20 years spent in Ethiopia and his familiarity with ge'ez and Amharic, must be interpreted for the ways they cite, paraphrase, and refute Ethiopian sources. For instance, the question of the metropolitan accused of fathering children, drinking, and abusing his ecclesiastical authority in Paes's redaction of the chronicle of Susenyos, and being involved in a revolt in 1617 against the king, may not necessarily be an insertion by Paes. It is possible that later versions of the chronicle after Susenyos's reign censored that segment of the chronicle, but Paes, who was of course biased against the metropolitan sent from Egypt, may have been closer to the truth.

Muslim Spain Reconsidered

Hitchcock's Muslim Spain Reconsidered is a short survey of the history of Al-Andalus from 711 to 1502. It would be difficult to do justice to several centuries of complex history, particularly in a region whose legacy has been used for various, occasionally contradictory purposes. For Hitchcock, Al-Andalus is not so much a paragon of interfaith harmony or unity, but rather part of a long history in which political concerns and interests (expediency) trumped religious or nationalist identities. For instance, the chapter in which El Cid is covered emphasizes the non-religious character of the historical El Cid. The cultural importance of Al-Andalus for scholarship, poetry, medicine, and translation of Classical knowledge is further emphasized for its long-term impact in Western Europe, too. Reasonable speculation about Al-Andalus's possible influence on Dante or the significance of Toledo as a center of translation of Islamic knowledge for the West serve to illustrate how Andalusian scholarship, book culture, and poetry made a huge impact on west. One of Hitchcock's particular strengths is his care to include aesthetic developments in poetry, architecture, and literature that illustrate distinctive Andalusian styles and identity, not just its emulation of the Islamic East. We certainly will be attempting to read Ibn Hazm, for example.

"Berber" Ancestry

A feature Ancestry and 23andme must (re)introduce is a chromosome browser that shows the user where exactly their DNA matches another user's. MyHeritage, which is less accurate, already offers this feature for free. However, since their DNA estimates are less accurate, we are forced to use DNA Painter's features to copy the chromosome breakdowns from 23andme or Ancestry to see the assigned "ethnicity" for sections of each chromosome. This convoluted process creates more work, and should be something available for free on Ancestry and 23andme. Doing so would illuminate how exactly one shares DNA with other users. This feature on My Heritage shows us, for instance, where we share DNA with North Africans. In the above example, with someone of Algerian heritage, we share 9.3 cM of DNA on a section of my third chromosome assigned to "North African" by Ancestry. This suggests that we likely harbor small amounts of "Amazigh" ancestry that can still be matched with random people from Morocco and Algeria. In our case, since we do not know of any recent admixture, we assume this is from one (or two) of 2 scenarios: ancient "Guanche" admixture from ancestors who came to the Caribbean via the Canary Islands or via ancient "Berber" admixture in parts of the Iberian Peninsula which contributed to the early peopling of the Spanish Caribbean. Either way, the fact that we have found multiple matches who share segments of DNA on parts of our chromosomes assigned to "North Africa" suggests "Berber" admixture. We need this feature to facilitate understanding of our West and Central African matches from places like Ghana, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, and other countries. It would also be very useful when looking at matches who are a mix of different African nationalities.

North African Ancestry Via Chromosome Painting

Using DNA Painter and North Africa matches on My Heritage, we have been able to locate distant matches on segments classified as "Northern Africa" by Ancestry. Naturally, all the matches are quit distant (8.2 cM to 9 cM), but it confirms that some of these matches we found on Ancestry probably are due to shared North African ancestry, even if it is most likely identical by state matches. Three of the matches are assigned to Chromosome 3, but one is on Chromosome 1. In addition, two other North Africans are DNA matches based on shared segments assigned to "Spain" or "Portugal" on Ancestry.

Most of the North Africa matches shared segments assigned to "Northern Africa" on our third chromosome. All three appear to be Moroccans living in Europe. With two of them, we share the same segment of DNA while the one who shares 9cM has a somewhat longer segment in common, encompassing most of the "Northern Africa" segment on the chromosome. Since we do not have any known Canary Islander ancestry, we suspect the North African admixture here is a testament to the centuries of North African interactions with the Iberian peninsula, probably dating back to medieval times. 

If Ancestry one day gets its act together and shows users which segments they match others on, searching African DNA matches will be even more informative and useful. Our hope is to one day pursue this with West and Central African matches. It would be amazing to explore this with the West African ancestry of Haitians.

North African Ancestry in the (Spanish) Caribbean

Although our North African ancestry estimates (based on Ancestry DNA's results) are low (1% now, but 2% before the update), it was interesting to see that we have DNA matches with actual North Africans. In addition, we also matched three people of Jewish origin who share North African ancestry (but lacked Spain and Portugal). This does support the idea of inherited North African/Berber origin inherited through our Hispanic side (via the Spanish Caribbean). In our case, this could be via the Canary Islands and the Iberian Peninsula, although we have not yet documented any Canary Island ancestry which might explain our North African admixture. In fact, it could just as likely be a result of the early Iberian population in Puerto Rico including more people who harbored North African ancestry in the 1500s and 1600s. Or, perhaps, the presence of "esclavas blancas" and other captives of morisco and/or North African descent brought to the Spanish Caribbean in the 1500s may have introduced another avenue for North African ancestry. 

Looking at our specific matches with North Africans (and Sephardic Jews, or their descendants, who matched us based on Northern Africa in Ancestry DNA's Compare Regions feature) we suspect a closer tie to the Maghreb rather than Guanches of the Canary Islands. This, however, is just a supposition based on our slightly closer shared cM of DNA with people of Sephardic ancestry. However, for transparency's sake, there is a small chance three of the North Africans we matched with could be the result of shared West African ancestry. One of them, North Africa 2, actually received 4% North-Central Nigeria, 2% Senegal, and 1% Yorubaland in the latest update. Therefore, there is a tiny chance we matched him via his small West African ancestry. Likewise, North Africa 3 harbored even more West African ancestry (20% Senegal, 7% Mali, 3% Yorubaland). Again, North Africa 4 also had West African ancestry (Senegal, Mali, Benin/Togo, and Yorubaland) so there's a small chance we are a DNA match via West Africa. Likewise, our shared 11 cM with North Africa 6 could also be due to their trace amounts of Spain, Portugal and Sardinia, each at 1%, in their estimated results. Anyway, if Ancestry one day allows its users to see exactly where on the chromosome they align with their matches, I could confirm it is via shared Northern African DNA that I match these two. Nonetheless, the match of 8 cM with North Africa 1, whose results are 99% Northern Africa, are indicative of a North African ancestry. In fact, North Africa 1's surname indicates a possible Berber background. 

To make sense of the matches with Jews, who, according to Ancestry, only share Northern Africa with me as a region, complicates things. With one of them, who we are calling Jewish 2, he is actually only 7% Sephardic Jewish. He is overwhelmingly of Askenazi Jewish origin (more than 80%), yet we share 9 cM and the only common region on Ancestry is Northern Africa. The other case, Jewish 1, is a slightly closer match (10 cM). Like Jewish 2, he has no Spain or Portugal in his ethnicity estimates, but a 1% Northern Africa. However, he is 39% Sephardic Jewish (plus 26% Ashkenazi). Jewish 3 harbored even more Northern Africa ancestry according to her estimates, but we only share 9 cM. Jewish 3, however, is 43% Sephardic Jewish. We find it interesting that our closer North African matches are often with Jews, perhaps hinting at shared mutual ancestry that goes back in time to medieval Iberia and North Africa. In fact, Jewish 4, who appears to hail from the same family as Jewish 1, was another distant DNA relative. Indeed, through the paper trail, we suspect some distant ancestors were Jews who converted to Catholicism. In fact, we have 3 additional distant matches with Jews on Ancestry who appear to be of (at least partial) Sephardic ancestry, but not always showing Northern Africa and/or the Iberian peninsula regions in their admixture results. 

Of course, to actually confirm this would require using chromosome painter and a more extensive search for potentially bigger matches (8-10 cM is still small and there's a chance for false positives). It would also be worthwhile to compare results on Gedmatch to ancient DNA samples from North Africa or with Guanches from the Canary Islands. Alas, the closest we have come to that is the sub-par Hunter-Gatherer estimate on Illustrative DNA, which assigned us 1.6% North Africa. These are the next steps, particularly for making sense of how North African ancestry is part of the story of not only Spain, but Latin America. 

Kingdoms of Faith

Since we have been trying to read more histories of North Africa, the Mediterranean and Islam, we recently read Kingdoms of Faith: A New History of Islamic Spain by Brian Catlos. While one would think such a topic is not one of our immediate interests, Islamic Spain did have a connection to Kanem in the medieval era. Indeed, one of the earliest known West African poets of the Arabic language, Abu Ishaq Ibrahim al-Kanemi, lived in Almohad Spain after establishing himself as a grammarian and respected poet in the Maghrib. Moreover, al-Andalus was definitely linked to our Sahelian area of interest through trans-Saharan trade networks. So, Islamic Spain enjoyed global connections through Europe, the Mediterranean, the Near East, and Africa, although the ties to sub-Saharan Africa are often ignored or little known. 

A general overview of al-Andalus, like Kingdoms of Faith, does not delve into the trans-Saharan side of Islamic Spain, but it is a great overview of a complex history. Often reduced to obfuscating stereotypes or romanticized narratives of conflict or tolerance, al-Andalus was a profoundly dynamic and shifting region where alliances and conflicts occurred between people of the same or different religious traditions. While Catlos at times seems too eager to emphasize this, one cannot deny that religious identity alone never defined or solely motivated the actions of historical actors, especially in an arena where Muslims, Christians, Jews and almost certainly "pagans" from other lands like the pre-Christian Norse crossed paths and learned how to, out of convenience, come together for their own interests. Catlos is most persuasive on that point, the pragmatism of various Muslim or Christians rulers in their attempts to rule or establish stable states across the peninsula. 

So, in order to demonstrate how pragmatism and convenience motivated the political history of the Iberian peninsula from 711 to the early 17th century, Catlos outlines the development in chronological order of the peninsula from the first Muslim conquest to the emirate (and later caliphate) of Cordoba, and then the Taifa kingdoms, Almoravid and Almohad presence, and gradual expansion of the Christian kingdoms of Aragon and Castile. The reader gains some appreciation for the intellectual, cultural, technological, and economic sophistication of al-Andalus, especially under the Caliphate and the Taifa kingdoms, whose patronage for the arts and sciences definitely contributed to European philosophy and scientific knowledge. One also begins to understand how religion, ethnicity, clan, and slavery shaped this history as those of Arab lineage often occupied the best positions in government while discriminating against those of Berber origin or descendants of native converts who formed the majority of the population. This helps elucidate some of the internal dissension, civil wars, assassinations, and foreign invasions that pitted Muslim against Muslim or Christian against Christian in the broader sphere of Mediterranean history. 

Overall, Kingdoms of Faith is a good introduction to the history of al-Andalus. One might have to consider ignoring the jarring references to Andalusi elite male culture as "gangsta" or attempts to bring contemporary American politics or social commentary into the text, but those are fortunately few. All the Afrocentric extremists who love the racially-loaded term "Moor" should consider reading this, as it will establish very quickly how absurd it is to assume the "Moors" were "Black." It would also be a good read for those interested in the Sahel and how Islamic Spain was an important part of the bridge that connected the Sahelian zone with the Mediterranean and Europe in the Middle Ages. Perhaps future scholarship can shed additional light on this, particularly the West African presence in the Iberian peninsula as slaves, soldiers, students, and, in at least one case, authors whose impact might be important for shaping conceptions of difference and "race" in the early modern period. 

Noah Howard's Ole

A stirring interpretation of Coltrane's "Olé" from a live performance by Noah Howard! It's faithful, yet still distinct due to the smaller band performing it. The pianist lacks the chromaticism of the genius McCoy Tyner, and I long for Eric Dolphy's flute solo. The dual bass playing, one bowed and the other plucked, added another rhythmic layer to this hypnotic piece, but Howard's solo is passionate and brings a vitality to the piece. El Quinto Regimiento lives on. 

Jazz, Coltrane, Sanders, Lorca

Epic tribute to John Coltrane's "Ole," itself based on "El Quinto Regimiento," a song of the Spanish Civil War derived from earlier Andalusian folk music. As for the link to Lorca, we must remember the Spanish poet's dedication to the music and folklore of al-Andalus. Although I prefer McCoy Tyner's style over William Henderson, Sanders and Idris Muhammad are on fire in this performance.

The Dominican Republic and the Beginning of a Revolutionary Cycle in the Spanish Caribbean: 1861-1898

Luis Alvarez-Lopez's The Dominican Republic and the Beginning of a Revolutionary Cycle in the Spanish Caribbean: 1861-1898 serves as a good introduction to the Dominican War of Restoration and its reverberations throughout the Spanish Caribbean. As someone interested in Haiti, this text argues that the fear of Haitian invasion was only a minor factor in Santana and other Dominican elites returning the young nation to the Spanish Empire. The author also provides some analysis of the differing Dominican nationalists and anti-annexation parties, the structure of the Provisional government and its military leaders, and the socio-economic structure of the Dominican Republic during this time.

 

Spanish racism, economic and social policies, etc. pushed the Dominican Republic into a war for its second independence, just as Spanish rule in Cuba and Puerto Rico was threatened in the later decades of the 19th century. Haitian support for the Dominican nationalist movement, fear of Haitian and US expansion in the Caribbean by Spain, and Antilleanism emerge as factors of the Dominican War of Restoration, with significant consequences for the rest of the Greater Antilles. Haiti, unfortunately, is largely excluded from this, but the author does a great job of examining Betances's anti-imperial work in the context of the Dominican conflict, which included Haiti in his vision. The text also dismisses claims that the tropical climate is what really caused Spanish defeat in Hispaniola and uses primary and secondary source material adequately to illustrate how Dominican guerrilla tactics decimated Spanish troops. Cuba and Puerto Rico also played a role in this conflict as a source of funds and troops, which led to solidary work from Puerto Rican nationalists, such as Betances.

 

Overall, an interesting work that is quite suggestive for the Spanish Caribbean. The only significant problem is the Kindle edition's numerous typos and grammatical mistakes, which is the result of poor translation and/or editing.

The Conquistadors: A Very Short Introduction

The Conquistadors: A Very Short Introduction is a fine introduction to the history of the Spanish conquests for a general audiences. The authors, both experts on the subject, elucidate how "micropatriotism," the stranger-effect, and Spanish alliances with indigenous conquistadors made the Spanish conquests possible. While I was disappointed the authors devoted so little to the conquest of the Caribbean, this remains an accessible introduction to a complex subject. Dismissive of racist and unproved claims by scholars dating back to the 16th century chronicles and narratives, the authors are quick to show how presumptuous and ill-informed mainstream conclusions are regarding the conquistadors.

Instead of being received as "gods," native societies always perceived them as humans from a remote, distant part of the world (thus playing a role in the aforementioned stranger-effect). Moreover, many of the conquistadors were of African descent, such as Juan Garrido, a few were women, and the vast majority were indigenous leaders or polities who saw the Spanish as arbitrators, a way to access new privileges, and weaken their enemies from other indigenous polities. This also helps push away condescending assumptions regarding Native America as being full of "superstitious" natives who saw Europeans as gods instead of making decisions as rational actors leading advanced civilizations of their own kind.

The text also displays how the Spanish conquistadors were basically armed entrepreneurs, privately funded, and quite uneven in a process of colonialism that lasted for 3 centuries. Some indigenous societies, such as the Mapuche, were never conquered while groups in areas of Colombia, the Yucatan, or the US Southwest took centuries to "conquer." Indeed, many of the touted advantages the Spanish allegedly enjoyed were likely minimal in combat, such as their firearms, the diseases they introduced (which also affected their indigenous allies, and in some cases, the outbreaks only came after the conquest), their horses (sometimes not useful in mountainous terrain or hostile climates), and their steel (which, though stronger than obsidian or wooden weapons utilized by Aztecs or other people of the Mexican central valley, were not always the most convenient to wield). In fact, many Spanish adopted the styles of armor, footwear, head protection, and dress of locals.

Furthermore, many if not most of the conquistadors were not formally trained in war, making their dependence on indigenous allies and African auxiliaries even more necessary. Therefore, an understanding of indigenous socio-political systems is necessary to begin to comprehend how and why so many indigenous polities were willing to side with the Spanish, only to have their privileges revoked after the conquests (such was the fate of the Nahua who made the Spanish conquest of Mexico happen). As a very short book on the subject, Matthew Restall and Felipe Fernandez-Armesto provide an exemplary introduction to a complex event in the creation of the early modern world.

Cantigas de Santa Maria

Some of this music from the "Cantigas de Santa Maria" is quite fascinating, blending Islamic, Gregorian, and other styles of ritual and older musical traditions together in 13th century Iberia. Also important for establishing poetry and the written form of Galician-Portuguese, the beautifully illuminated text is an important source for studying medieval music, culture, Romance languages, and cultural exchange. Check out this catchy number, too. Not sure how accurately it reproduces the sounds of 13th century Iberia, but it certainly is interesting. 

Black Conquistador in Mexico

Interesting Black History Picture: Codex Azcatilan, likely made sometime in the mid 16th or 17th century. This image depicts the Spanish army in 1519. Note the black conquistador with them, perhaps Juan Garrido or one of the other blacks who accompanied Cortez during the conquest of the Aztec Empire. Lest we forget, many Afro-Spanish or Afro-Portuguese crossed the Atlantic in the early years. I found the image on an Afrocentric forum I frequent last week. 

Jíbaro from 18th Century Art

Fascinating self-portrait of Luis Paret y Alcázar, Spanish painter living in Puerto in the late 18th century. Likely meant for humorous purposes and a reflection on his exile in one of the most neglected and perhipheral Spanish colonies, Puerto Rico. The interesting thing about this is the representation of jíbaros by elites as a type of 'proto-national' identity in the tradition of jíbaro masquerades as studied by Francisco Scarano and the continuity of in the visualization (plantains, hat, dress, barefoot or sandals, uncouth, etc.). Scarano places this painting in a broader context of creole elites using the mythologized image of the peasant for oppositional politics.

Check out Scarano's article here and while you're at is, see this depiction of a jíbaro from the 20th century album by Ramito. Note the machete, plantains, hat, and the jíbaro image has pretty much survived intact since the 18th century. 

The Question of Mestizos in the Early Hispanic Caribbean

"Spaniards, Pardos, and The Missing Mestizos: Identities and Racial Categories in the Early Hispanic Caribbean" by Stuart B. Schwartz is a very useful essay for examining the 'extinction' of the indigenous population. After my previous post on Puerto Rican population estimates throughout the colonial era and the almost complete absence of indigenous peoples or "Indians" after the early 16th century, I believed examining further the 'disappearance' of indigenous people in Puerto Rico deserved some additional attention.

Schwartz correctly notes the importance of the Spanish conquest and later slavery in redefining social categories in a very short period of time. Indeed, the role of sex in the Spanish conquest and colonial project is also mentioned in records, beginning as early as 1492, so there is plenty of evidence of the existence of 'mestizos' of Indian descent, yet their absence is conspicuous. Indeed, as Schwartz demonstrates, political interests of the Spanish played a role in motivating formal marriages with indigenosu women, such as the daughters of caciques, to gradually "Hispanicize" the elites of the island (7). Of course, rape, pillage, and other forms of violence would increase the numbers of mixed-race individuals. Marriage between encomenderos in Hispaniola, for instance, often united Spanish men with Indian women, as well as forms of concubinage (8).

Moreover, the Lando census of the 1530s in Puerto Rico likely reveals a euphemism for mixed-race women of the island, mujures de esta tierra (8). In addition, the colonial ecclesiastical authorities deplored the prevalence of single men involved with women in informal unions, part of the reason the colonial authorities wanted more white women from Europe to marry disproportionately male colonists (8). I am inclined to agree with Schwartz that the disappearance of Indians and mestizo identities reflects the incorporation of mixed-race descendants of Indian women into the 'white' or Spanish category in the colonial society of Puerto Rico. How else could whites, who were outnumbered by blacks and Tainos from the 16th century be so numerous, if not for the 'whitening' of mestizos? They and their descendants who were born legitimately, adopted the Spanish language, Roman Catholicism, and therefore entered into 'whiteness' could become 'white' in census data throughout the colonial period (10). This would explain why historians such as Francisco Scarano wrote that mestizos outnumbered whites by the 17th century yet no mestizos were counted in colonial census figures in Puerto Rico.

Schwartz fortunately gives numerous examples from colonial Cuba and Santo Domingo of known European-Indian unions resulting in children, yet the children were never classified as 'mestizo,' proof of the permeability of whiteness in the early Spanish Caribbean (11). Indeed, this comes as no surprise, since race is a social category. Therefore, some will 'become white' or 'Spanish' despite obvious miscegenation in the Caribbean. Unsurprisingly, some 'whites' in the the Spanish Caribbean were never considered such by European visitors, who noted their multiracial background and looked down upon them for it (Schwartz refers to the case of a visitor to Puerto Rico in 1783 who noted the rarity of pure whites). Again, this is not a surprise given the smaller and smaller Indian population of the island due to incorporation of their mixed progeny into the 'white' category and their own decline due to disease and Spanish violence and exploitation. Their 'mixed' descendants were left to marry or reproduce with whites, Africans, or among themselves (13).

Naturally, the slave trade and the importance of slavery brought an enormous increase in the black population. Like the rest of the Spanish colonies in Latin America, the 'stain' associated with black ancestry and slave descent became a significant social marker that widened the definition of 'pardos' to include people of Amerindian descent into a broader 'brown' or racially mixed category so that by the 17th and 18th centuries, Puerto Rico, the Spanish Caribbean, and much of the rest of Latin America blocked access to power and certain professions to people of mixed-race descent. Thus, some people partly descending from indigenous people in Puerto Rico became white while by the 17th century, some were also absorbed into the expanding Afro-descended 'pardo' category.

The importance of this for the elasticity of race also pertains to the question of Taino revivalism in Puerto Rico and elsewhere in the Hispanic Caribbean. So, yes, Tainos did not disappear off the face of the earth genetically, since the progeny of Spanish unions with indigenous women survived as part of the 'creole' mixed-race population, yet Puerto Rico remains most impacted demographically by European and African immigration. As for the question of culture, Puerto Rico would also appear to owe more to Spanish and African sources than some of the revivalist movement's supporters like to claim, despite the great importance of indigenous-European encounters in the early years of contact. The fact that colonial administrators and elites did not recognize "Indian" as a social category in Puerto Rico because they were largely 'mestizo' and whitened demonstrates that, though creolization in the broader sense occurred for both the Spanish settlers and Indians, their joint descendants were seen as "Spanish" and therefore probably preserved and honored more of their European heritage due to its dominance in colonial society.

Undoubtedly, indigenous practices could thrive or survive in some altered form, but it's just not correct to call them "Taino" anymore. They were no longer identified as such. Their culture was transformed and reconfigured into a 'creole' culture that was, as one can see from census data and other sources, neither self-identifying as "Taino" nor practicing 'purely' Taino-derived customs. Of course, one can see the survival of indigenous phenotypes and, as mentioned previously, some Taino and other Amerindian customs, but Europe and Africa were the largest demographic factors in Puerto Rican colonial society and they too were creolized and fused into something different. Therefore, in my humble opinion, it is dishonest and ahistorical to claim a "Taino" identity as a Boricua myself given the overwhelmingly 'criolla' identity of Puerto Rico for the past several centuries. Tainos are part of the 'three roots,' unquestionably so, but cannot be ahistorically placed on a pedestal nor romanticized as some of us are wont to do. I love and appreciate our Taino ancestors as much as the next person, but they're only one rather small component of Puerto Rican identity given their descendants' cultural assimilation into 'white' colonial society and the rise of a 'criolla' majority where miscegenation meant few whites were 'purely' of European descent and popular culture was significantly shaped by African slaves and their descendants.

This history of flexible whiteness may also help explain patterns of 'whitening' among people of African descent and the growth of self-identified 'white' Puerto Ricans in census data taken from the beginning of US rule to the present. And the fact that the 'white' peasants of the mountainous Puerto Rico (jibaros), Dominican Republic (monteros) and Cuba (guajiros) are so key to defining national identity for these islands speaks tot he importance of indigenous history because these peasants were hardly as 'white' as they might seem.

Afro-Iberia: Blacks in Medieval and Renaissance Iberia

These pictures in no way imply that the majority of "Moors" in medieval Iberia were "Black," but merely serves as a powerful reminder of the racial diversity of Muslim-dominated Iberia, as well as the conspicuous presence of "Blacks" in Christian Iberian art. The above image depicts the judgment of Moorish captives by a Christian Iberian king in the 1200s or 1300s, while the image below, from the early 16th century, depicts a black slave in Portugal serving as a domestic in the home of a wealthy Portuguese man. The latter image depicts the presence of enslaved Africans, often non-Muslims, from West Africa or even further south in Central Africa, who were popular domestic servants, indicators of status for wealthy elites, and, by the end of the 15th century, a common site in Lisbon and other southern Portuguese cities and parts of Andalusia.

I do not know if this is from the 16th century, but it's supposedly a depiction of Juan Latino, an African-descended professor and writer of Spain, educated and capable of writing poetry in Latin and lecturing in the university. He, according to research by Henry Louis Gates and other specialists on Black Spain in the 1500s, responded to anti-black prejudice by linking his African roots with Biblical Ethiopia. 

The above image represents European imagination on carnal knowledge of Arabs and Blacks, suggesting that it's immoral for a white, Christian woman to sleep with a dark-skinned, presumably Muslim, servant or slave. It's from the late 1200s, after the Reconquista was building in momentum and, though the black servant is seen burning, the white woman is saved by the Virgin Mary. Supposedly the image above depicts a dream, but an obvious anti-Muslim, anti-black prejudice can be detected in the seeming moral that interracial, interreligious and interclass love is frowned upon.

From the 1300s, this Jewish cartographer from Spain depicts the legendary Mansa Musa, of the Mali kingdom, whose fame and wealth was renowned throughout the world after his Hajj. His gold seems to be luring a light-skinned Arab or Berber trader and there is nothing to suggest anti-black attitudes or prejudice in the image, only the notion of fabulous wealth and unlimited gold to be found in this region of West Africa, which was linked to the notion of a "River of Gold" Europeans hoped to reach in West Africa. Muslim cartographers from North Africa also had a similarly fantastic idea, believing there was a Palolus, or island of Gold somewhere in West Africa south of the Mali empire, which was really the Wangara goldfields in non-Muslim lands.

 

This image depicts a black slave in the bottom right.

A retrato of Juan de Pareja, a black Spanish painter and acquaintance of Velazquez. He was a ladino, that is, an acculturated Afro-Iberian, fluent in Spanish and had this portrait done in 1650. Black ladinos would also play a significant role in the Spanish conquest of the Americas as well as a cultural presence in some cases, where slave and slave-descended communities assembled in parts of cities, such as Seville. Other well-known ladinos include Eleno/a de Cespedes, an Afro-Iberian transgendered person who was socially accepted as male despite being officially seen as a woman, even marrying a woman until Inquisition authorities intervened in their life.

From the 13th century, it depicts a dark-skinned, "Negroid" Moor playing chess with a light-skinned male. Likely from Alfonso el Sabio's Book of Games, it shows the influence of Muslim and Moorish games such as chess on Christian Iberian kingdoms. This black man does not seem a slvae, based on his dress, though he is barefoot. Images like these could be representative of reality in that some dark-skinned Berbers and West Africans likely entered Iberia as elites and military leaders following Almoravid and Almohad conquests. Furthermore, blackening Moors and equating Saracens with blacks was another way of denigrating them. 

 

From an early 15th century Iberian map, we see a depiction of a dark-skinned Berber or "Moor" in the West African Sahara or Sahel, about to engage in trade with the still-legendary Mansa Musa of Mali.

Likely from the 13th century, it depicts Moorish invaders, most of whom depicted as looking almost European, with one prominent black rower.

Another image of dark Moors playing chess, although other images depict light-skinned Moors playing chess.

Miles Davis, Sketches of Spain, and Spanish Folk Music

A few weeks ago I discovered some of the source material for the Miles Davis-Gil Evans collaboration known as Sketches of Spain. When I first heard the album a year ago, I disliked it because I found it rather boring. A few months ago, for some reason I gave it another chance and found myself enthralled. As my appreciation for the album grew more and more, I did some research and found out that in addition to the first two songs on the album (they're based on Spanish classical compositions, "Concierto de Aranjuez" and "Will O'The Wisp"), the last three are based on Spanish folk melodies and musical forms, such as flamenco and Andalusian music.

My research into some of these Spanish folk forms brought me to Alan Lomax's field recordings of Spanish music in the 1950s or around that period. Two of the songs from Alan Lomax's  field recordings were adapted and arranged by Gil Evans for his large ensemble and Miles Davis on their 1960 release, Sketches of Spain. The two folk songs used by Evans are "Alborada de Vigo," a song from Galicia in northwestern Spain, and "Saeta," religious music performed in the towns of Andalusia during Semana Santa, or Holy Week. Lomax's recording of "Alborada" features flute and is much shorter than Gil Evan's vision of it. "Saeta," however, is arranged quite faithfully by Evans. It mixes the march and horns with the flamenco/Middle-Eastern-styled vocals of the Spanish singer in Lomax's recordings. Indeed, Gil Evans and Miles Davis's version of "Saeta" is so faithful that Davis's solo echoes the haunting beauty of the Spanish vocalist.

Here is "Alborada de Vigo"
http://grooveshark.com/s/Alborada+De+Vigo/3Tyl2w?src=5

And "The Pan Piper," the song from Gil Evans and Miles Davis which is takes the melody for the opening line.

Alan Lomax's field recording of "Saeta" in Sevilla or some other Andalusian town. Love the melismatic singing
http://grooveshark.com/s/Saeta/3TyxA5?src=5

Miles And Gil Evans

The final track on Sketches of Spain is "Solea," which is based on a form of flamenco form/dance.
Here is Spanish guitarist Paco de Lucia performing a solea

Here is a dance

And now the jazzed up version

Of course Miles had explored Spanish music prior to Sketches of Spain. Indeed, two of my favorite Spanish-inflected Miles Davis songs are "Flamenco Sketches" from Kind of Blue and "Teo" from Someday My Prince Will Come. "Flamenco Sketches" is just that: sketches. It's built on Bill Evan's light piano (which is based on his own interpretation of a jazz standard, "Some Other Time"). The Spanish influences are only heard in the solos. "Teo," like "Flamenco Sketches," features John Coltrane on sax but has a much stronger and interesting drumming.