Pigmentocracy:

Definition and Background

In the past couple of decades, the word pigmentocracy has come into common usage to refer to
the distinctions that people of African descent in America make in their various skin tones, which
range from the darkest shades of black to paleness that approximates whiteness. More
specifically, the ocracy in pigmentocracy carries with it notions of hierarchical value that
viewers place on such skin tones. Lighter skin tones are therefore valued more than darker skin
tones. Such preferences have social, economic, and political implications, as persons of lighter
skin tones historically were frequentlyand stereotypicallyviewed as being more intelligent,
talented, and socially graceful than their darker skinned black counterparts. Blacker blacks were
viewed as unattractive, indeed ugly, and generally considered of lesser value. Europeans
standards of beauty thus dominated an African people for most of their history in America.
Although the word pigmentocracy may have come into widespread usage fairly recently, the
concept extends throughout the history of Africans on American soil. During slavery, black
people who were fathered by their white masters often gained privileges based on their lighter
coloring. Indeed, one reported pattern is that blacks of lighter skin were reputedly selected to
work in the Big Houses of plantation masters while blacks of darker hues were routinely sent to
the fields. Moreover, one of the origins of the Dozens, the ritual game of insult in African
American culture, is reputed to have developed as a result of slurs darker skinned blacks who
worked in the fields hurled at lighter skinned blacks because their mothers had given birth to
children sired by white masters. Some masters who recognized their paternity publicly
sometimes sent their partially colored offspring to the North to be educated. This practice
explains in part the belief that blacks of lighter skin were more intelligent (they simply had more
educational opportunities). It was convenient to the mythology of slavery to suggest this pattern
as well, for even without formal admission, whites were aware that some blacks looked more
like them than others. Since many theories of bestiality and dehumanization were aligned with
darker skinned blacks, it was perhaps preferable to be more tolerant of the lighter skinned ones.
Even this, however, was not a consistent pattern, for theories also developed about
mongrelization, that is, the mixing of black and white blood, leading to extreme anti-social
behavior in persons so endowed.
Value based on skin tones led to some interesting historical developments both within and
outside African American communities. To prevent blacks fathered by white masters from
making claims on their masters, children born to enslaved women were legally designated to take
the status of those women. Blond-haired, blue-eyed enslaved persons, therefore, could not
change their condition through any legal process. To ensure that this pattern could not be broken,
anyone determined to have had black blood in one of their ancestors five generations removed
was still designated Negro. Mulattoes, quadroons, octoroons, sextaroons, and whatever word
would define a person who had 1/32 black blood were all designated to be fully black by laws of
American society. The mighty drop of black blood, as some scholars refer to it, was powerful

enough to control generations of persons legally classified as black who might otherwise have
been classed as white or who might have passed for white.
Many persons who were light enough to pass for white did indeed do so. With their straight hair
and fine features, they simply left their black identities behind, moved into white society, and
became white. Some blacks made this move for financial reasons and continued to return to
black communities to remain connected. Others assumed completely new identities and did not
look back. Politics surrounded both decisions. Given the climate of the late nineteenth century,
when any educated person of African descent was expected to use his or her education to help
other blacks, to depart completely for the white world was considered a form of abandonment as
well as a form of racial self hatred. Nonetheless, many persons did take advantage of this
biological option, while others remained committed to their fellow blacks and used their
advantages of skin and education to help them.
The idea of uplift, that is, blacks of talent and education helping each other, is
strongly tied to pigmentocracy, for many of the persons who were well educated in
the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were indeed lighter skinned. They
fit into what W. E. B. Du Bois described as The Talented Tenth. Du Bois maintained
that one tenth of the black population in America should become educated as
quickly as possible and should help the remaining ninety percent. That seemingly
altruistic proposal had class and color as its basis. By the turn of the twentieth
century, there were several pockets of lighter skinned, middle class blacks
throughout the United States, especially in the South. Cities such as Washington,
D.C., Richmond, Virginia, Durham, North Carolina, and Atlanta, Georgia were among
those where blacks of lighter hue ensured that they married similar persons and
became lighter and lighter every generation. They watched carefully over the
educations of their offspring, vacationed together, and ensured that their kin met
the right kinds of black folks when considering marriage. They could interact with
the great unwashed black masses, could indeed help lift them up (Lifting as we
Climb was a black club womens motto), but they were a breed apart. Both Du Bois
and Booker T. Washington, the other political leader of this period, were of this
breed. Many of these talented tenth had relatives who were leaders in their
communities, such as Pinckney Benton Stewart Pinchback, writer Jean Toomers
grandfather, who served briefly as acting governor of Louisiana during
Reconstruction. As near-white Toomer, who could easily have passed for white, grew
up in Washington, D.C. in the 1880s and 1890s, he observed the impact of color and
class upon his lifestyle, for his family resided in one of the most select black areas
of Washington, D.C.

Black people of lighter hue who claimed class distinctions based upon their skin
colors provided an ambiguous and problematic model for darker skinned blacks.
Even as visibly black Negroes resented the presumed inherent right of lighter
skinned blacks to be leaders and spokespersons for all black people, they
nonetheless adhered to that hierarchy. Patterns developed in which darker skinned

blacks sought to marry lighter skinned blacks; this tendency existed well into the
late twentieth century. Darker blacks sometimes envied lighter skinned blacks and
sought, through any means possible in the early twentieth century, to become like
them and, by extension, like whites. From the hair straightening products that
Madam C. J. Walker perfected, to the processed hair that Malcolm X recounts getting
in the 1940s, to the skin lightening creams that were advertised in prominent
magazines such as Ebony and Jet, darker skinned African Americans were offered
wish fulfillment options to try to make themselves as white and therefore as
acceptable as possible.
The politics of skin color, therefore, has some disturbing prongs. On the one hand, it
enabled some persons legally classified as black to enhance their educations
because of their lighter skins. On the other hand, it encouraged darker skinned
blacks to devalue their black skins in imitation of lighter hues and whiteness. Racial
pride thus became tied up in ambiguous ways with racial self-hatred. Lighter
skinned blacks who were happy not to be dark were frequently very helpful to their
darker skinned brothers and sisters. Class, however, prevented them from
socializing with such persons or even remotely considering them their equals. Many
darker blacks failed to value themselves for who they were as they were. Issues of
identity formation, racial progress, self worth, class issues, and racial pride were all
brought together in the visible shades of skin coloring in African Americans.

Teacher and Student Engagement

Students in the twenty-first century may initially have difficulty imagining how people of
African descent, all of whom were routinely devalued as they were brought to America and
enslaved, could have developed hierarchies of value among themselves based on the very
superficial matter of skin coloring. Obviously they did, so a beginning point for discussion would
be to determine the advantages of denying blackness, or, in other words, the advantages of
identifying white. What did newly freed blacks have to gain by trying to be white? For those who
had advantages of education, clearly there were rewards in terms of where they could live, with
whom they could socialize and marry, and how persons outside black communities perceived
them. But what else, either tangibly or intangibly, did they gain?
And of course theres the fear factor that defined Reconstruction. Whites were now being fed the
message that blacks, especially black males, were a menace. They used the idea of threat to
explain the founding of organizations such as the Ku Klux Klan in the 1860s. Develop
assignments in which students research how blacks were perceived during slavery as opposed to
how they were viewed in the late 1860s and 1870s. Why were black males now considered more
of a threat? What did the Emancipation Proclamation and freedom have to do with this? What
mythologies surrounded how blacks were treated in the late nineteenth century as opposed to
their treatment earlier? Allow students to watch (over several class periods) the D. W. Griffith
movie, Birth of a Nation (1915), and explore the issues of race, color, and class that are woven
into it.

Visual aids are of crucial importance in this discussion, so please locate photographs of
prominent black figures and others from the late nineteenth century. Washington, Du Bois, and
Charles W. Chesnutt could serve for the prominent figures. Have students contemplate what it
meant for Chesnutt to consider himself a voluntary Negro. Clearly, he prided himself on his
blackness enough not to pass for white. However, in terms of contemplating pigmentocracy, he
obviously had advantages. He studied law, became a court stenographer, and garnered success as
a writer. A couple of his stories, Her Virginia Mammy and A Matter of Principle, as well as
other selections in The Wife of His Youth and Other Stories of the Color Line (1899), provide
excellent opportunities for students to study skin color and passing.
These visual aids can lead students in a different direction for discussion. Have them contemplate
this question: Why should a black person such as Chesnutt have been legally classified as
Negro when there is no visible sign that he is of African origin? Why could he not just as easily
have been classified as white? What cultural, political, and social factors made such a
classification impossible, even if Chesnutt had been desirous of it?
Use visual aids as well to locate photographs and paintings of very dark skinned black people of
the period. What in their physiology led to them being labeled ugly? Have students really engage
with the selected photographs and paintings. Encourage them to move beyond whatever initial
discomfort they may feel to try to see beauty as an abstraction. If peoples noses and lips are
fuller than others, if their skins are darker than others, what makes them less attractive than
persons whose noses, lips, and skins are thinner and lighter? Try to get students to see that there
are factors outside human bodies that govern the valuation of human bodies, even when those
bodies, alone, might suggest a different standard of valuation.
Students become increasingly engaged when they see the relevance of an issue in their own time
and place. Identify ways, therefore, in which students can see contemporary examples of
pigmentocracy around them. A simple exercise would be to have them watch television,
television commercials, and/or movies for several days or a week, then report back to the class
about what they have observed in terms of roles being assigned on the basis of skin tone. Which
skin tones are most frequently assigned to villains? Which to persons who are represented as
being for justice, right, and the American way? This exercise might extend to awards that are
given to these programs, such as the Academy Awards and the Grammys. How does skin color
seem to average into who gets which awards? The NAACP Image Awards should be especially
informative in this connection. Do the NAACP Image Awards provide an alternative to criteria
established for awards given by other organizations?
Consider specific actors and actresses. Why does Halle Berry seem to get more roles than Cicely
Tyson may have gotten or than Angela Bassett can get? Denzel Washington seems to get all the
juicy roles he wants. What difference, then, does gender make in terms of color politics? How is
this apparent in sports as opposed to movies?

Have students check to see when the designation mixed race was first used on the United
States Census form. What does this designation really mean, since there is no legal mixed race
category that anyone observes in the United States? What cultural or political significance does
mixed race have? Is it meaningful, or is it just another form of separation among people who
might otherwise find common bonds?
Another exercise would be to have students examine 1950s and 1960s issues of magazines such
as Ebony and Jet and compare them to contemporary issues. Note the earlier ads for skin
lightening creams as well as for hair straighteners. Are any contemporary ads comparable? What
are the color politics of advertising? Similarly, invite students to contemplate and evaluate the
color politics of news reporting by having them watch local news reports for a few days. If
crimes are the same for a black criminal as for a white criminal, how long does it take the
program to show the faces of each? When they are shown, what is the beauty component of
those photographs? In other words, does one criminal look as if she has been sleeping under a
bed for a week and the other as if she were just picked up from her job? These exercises will
allow students to think about color in contemporary society and will perhaps give them a clearer
sense of how value based on color has informed our society throughout its history. It is perhaps
no wonder, then, that persons of African descent wanted to get rid of as much of the devalued
blackness as possible.
Exploring how black people have referred to themselves throughout their history in America can
also be informative for students. From nigras to niggers to Negroes to Afro-Americans
to Black to African American is a history in itself. It took people of African descent in
America more than two hundred years to accept, on a universal basis, the designation black.
Prior to the 1960s, to call a black person black provided an occasion for fighting. How did
African Americans move from considering blackness an insult to echoing James Browns Im
Black and Im Proud?
Either begin or end with the Constitution. What impact, if any, did this document have upon race
designations in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries? Why were all American groups
not covered sufficiently by the guarantees this documents purports to offer? What about other
founding and legal documents in America? Where do they fall short in protecting and providing
opportunities for people of African descent no matter their skin tone? Which brings us to a basic
question: Who in America is truly American, and what or who determines that status?
Scholars, Writers, and Color
It is always instructive to consider how blackness became identified with slavery and inferiority
in American society. A good starting point is Winthrop D. Jordans White Over Black: American
Attitudes Toward the Negro, 1550-1812 (1968). Jordan makes clear that Africans and indentured
servants brought to America were fairly comparable in their lesser status until white indentured
servants starting running away and disappearing into the larger society. Visibly black Africans
clearly did not have that option as a way out of slavery, and if they ran away, their color enabled

them to be retrieved easily. Servitude and slavery were thus fairly quickly institutionalized as
pertaining to persons of African descent and were identified with the color black. For a history of
skin preferences within African American communities and how they affected class, see Willard
B. Gatewoods Aristocrats of Color: The Black Elite, 1880-1920 (1990). A younger scholar who
has studied the basis for class and skin color status among blacks in the late nineteenth and
earlier twentieth centuries is Andrea Williams, who defended her dissertation on the topic in the
English Department at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 2006.
Of course Du Boiss The Souls of Black Folk (1903) is instructive on most things relevant to the
period, including the obligations of the educated elite to the masses of blacks and the preference
for classical education over merely suggesting that black people learn trades. Washingtons Up
From Slavery (1901) is informative about the masses of blacks, education, and the philosophy of
uplift that ruled at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, where he became President in 1881. Chesnutts
writings about his own life, which are contained in The Journals of Charles W. Chesnutt (1990),
as well as about literature are instructive in examining how a black person who could have
passed for white viewed life in America from the 1880s into the second decade of the twentieth
century.
In terms of the literature itself, short fiction writer and novelist Frances Ellen Watkins Harper has
provided several works in which skin tone is a prominent feature. Her serialized novels, Minnies
Sacrifice (1869), Sowing and Reaping (1876-77), and Trial and Triumph (1888-89), which were
collected and published by Frances Smith Foster in 1994, all deal with women of very fine
features whose race is more assigned because of the author than decided by any definite factors
in the texts. The focus of the narratives nonetheless makes clear the tremendously prominent
place skin tone played in African American communities of the period. Less ambiguous is the
novel for which Harper is best known. Iola Leroy (1892) features a sister and brother who are
visibly white but who are sold into slavery once their white protector/father dies. After a series of
misfortunate events, which she braves triumphantly, Iola commits herself to working for racial
uplift. Rejecting a proposal from a white physician, she forms a union instead with a black man
of fellow missionary spirit. Harpers politics are clear in that commitment to race comes before
any opportunities that skin color may occasion.
In his literary creations, Chesnutt also explores color issues in his short stories as well as in The
House Behind the Cedars (1900). In this novel, John and Rena Walden are the very pale children
of a black mother and a white father, one who is reputed to be of the best blood in the South. The
father has provided a home for the mother and her children, but the son is restless. He reads with
an attorney to practice law, then migrates from North Carolina and passes for white. He invites
Rena to join him, but disaster strikes when she is far less able to effect the passing scheme than
her brother. More successful at passing is James Weldon Johnsons narrator in The
Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man (1912). Similarly sired by a white man who has some of
the best blood in the South in his veins, the unnamed narrator migrates with his mother to
Connecticut, where the father provides financial support until the mothers death. The son then

migrates to Atlanta, Florida, New York, Europe, and again to the South before deciding, after
witnessing a lynching, that he will disappear permanently into white society.
These works illustrate that color and its implications, both within and outside African American
communities, have prevailed throughout the history of people of African descent on American
soil. The period from 1865 to 1915 was especially significant in this history because newly freed
blacks were trying so desperately to define themselves and claim a space in the great American
democratic experiment. Those efforts often led them to judge themselves and other blacks in
superficial ways that have left continuing scars on the black psyche. The pigmentocracy that
reigned during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries has descendants in the twentyfirst century that are at times just as ugly as their predecessors.

What is Transitional Justice?

Transitional justice refers to the set of judicial and non-judicial measures that have been
implemented by different countries in order to redress the legacies of massive human rights
abuses. These measures include criminal prosecutions, truth commissions, reparations programs,
and various kinds of institutional reforms.
Transitional justice is not a special kind of justice, but an approach to achieving justice in times
of transition from conflict and/or state repression. By trying to achieve accountability and
redressing victims, transitional justice provides recognition of the rights of victims, promotes
civic trust and strengthens the democratic rule of law.
Why is Transitional Justice Important?
In the aftermath of massive human rights abuses, victims have well established rights to see the
perpetrators punished, to know the truth, and to receive reparations.
Because systemic human rights violations affect not just the direct victims, but society as a
whole, in addition to satisfying these obligations, states have duties to guarantee that the

violations will not recur, and therefore, a special duty to reform institutions that were either
involved in or incapable of preventing the abuses.
A history of unaddressed massive abuses is likely to be socially divisive, to generate mistrust
between groups and in the institutions of the State, and to hamper or slow down the achievement
of security and development goals. It raises questions about the commitment to the rule of law
and, ultimately, can lead to cyclical recurrence of violence in various forms.
As it is seen in most countries where massive human rights violations take place, the claims of
justice refuse to go away.
The Elements of a Comprehensive Transitional Justice Policy
The different elements of a transitional justice policy are not parts of a random list, but rather, are
related to one another practically and conceptually. The core elements are:

Criminal prosecutions, particularly those that address perpetrators

considered to be the most responsible.

Reparations, through which governments recognize and take steps to address

the harms suffered. Such initiatives often have material elements (such as
cash payments or health services) as well as symbolic aspects (such as public
apologies or day of remembrance).

Institutional reform of abusive state institutions such as armed forces, police

and courts, to dismantleby appropriate meansthe structural machinery of
abuses and prevent recurrence of serious human rights abuses and impunity.

Truth commissions or other means to investigate and report on systematic

patterns of abuse, recommend changes and help understand the underlying
causes of serious human rights violations.

This is not a closed list. Different countries have added other measures. Memorialization, for
example, the various efforts to keep the memory of the victims alive through the creation of
museums, memorials, and other symbolic initiatives such as the renaming of public spaces, etc.,
has become an important part of transitional justice in most parts of the world.
Despite the fact that transitional justice measures rest on solid legal and moral obligations, there
is wide latitude as to how these obligations can be satisfied, and therefore there is no formula to
fit all contexts.
As transitions to democracy have become more common, transitional justice has become
a significant issue in many instances. Teitel takes an interdisciplinary approach to examine key
debates surrounding transitional justice problems. Addressing a range of examples from biblical
times to the World Wars to transitions accompanying the "Third Wave" of democratization, she
discusses a range of measures that have been used to address a legacy of injustice. She views law
as a facilitator of change rather than a supporter of the status quo. Throughout the book, she

examines the ability of different mechanisms aside from criminal punishment, namely the role of
historical inquiries, reparations policies, administrative measures, and constitutional reform to
promote justice. Transitional justice, Teitel argues, serves to construct a liberal political identity
for the new state: "transitional justice offers a way to reconstitute the collective-across
potentially divisive racial, ethnic, and religious lines" (225).
In pointing to the role of law in transitions, she finds fault with the literature that often sees it in
black and white terms. Realists view justice as largely epiphenomenal, the product of the balance
of forces. Idealists, by contrast, do not account well for the relation of law and political change.
"[C]ontrary to the prevailing idealist accounts, law here is shaped by the political circumstances,
but, also challenging the prevailing realist accounts, law here is not mere product but itself
structures the transition." (6) Teitel argues that law has an extraordinary constitutive role in times
of great political change. "It is alternately constituted by, and constitutive of, the transition." (6)
In these circumstances, what is deemed just is "contingent and informed by prior injustice." (6)
As she shows throughout the book, prior law often shapes the possibilities available. She also
discusses how international law provides a continuous and enduring framework in times of
change. While many have seen the judiciary as an obstacle to justice where complicit in past
crimes, it has also often significant in helping to break with the past by undertaking judicial
review and opening avenues of participation.
The author first examines arguments for advancing criminal justice in transitions. Many see
punishment as justified in helping to establish a democratic order. However, the ex post facto
application of law in many circumstances also runs counter to the rule of law. The legacy of
Nuremberg, she discusses, has been paradigmatic in establishing international legal principles to
provide continuity and standards and principles of individual responsibility. In comparative
perspective, she notes the succession process was often normalized by operating within existing
legal systems. Inherent in many of these circumstances, selective justice, or for a variety of
reasons not trying all who are equally culpable, may be the only option and this can be justified,
as this exists even in normal democratic times. While it may advance a sense of justice, however,
it may also be perceived as political justice. The problem of asserting command responsibility is
also discussed. There is often insufficient evidence the top leadership ordered crimes to be
carried out. In these circumstances, limited sanction may be the best punishment to be realized,
which some argue can at least stigmatize. The role of amnesties in transitions is another crucial
factor shaping the prospects of criminal punishment. She argues that many of the normative
bases of amnesties that have evolved are in fact justifications for the de facto situation.
A second form of justice that has emerged is through various forms of historical inquiry. It has
become a popular assumption that examining the past is necessary to restoring the collective in
transitional times. She discusses the production of history through trials. Trials, she asserts, are
much more compatible with producing history than many supporters of historical inquiry are
willing to concede. She argues trials can serve both individual and collective ends. While
recognizing that the 'official' truth assumes a degree of democratic consensus that rarely occurs
in practice, this does not detract from the potential to contribute to justice. She also addresses the
so-called truth vs. justice trade-off. She rejects this either-or view, but rather argues that the
question is what sort of 'truth' is to be produced. In exploring the ways in which historical
inquiries have sought to deal with different circumstances, she concludes that "[t]he varying

transitional responses are not well explained in terms of the prevailing realist perspective, for
diverse state responses do not appear to turn on a simple calculus of the balance of power." (97)
The goal is the production of a narrative that describes national history as one of a tragedy turned
to comedy or romance. She concludes that historical inquiry has more often been transitional
rather than foundational for the nation's future.
The book then turns to the realization of justice through reparations. She argues this has been the
most common response to a legacy of crimes regardless of political culture. The chapter
discusses the evolution of reparations in international relations, which was once something
awarded to the nation-state, but is increasingly directed toward individuals. Reparations, she
argues, are backward-looking in repairing victims and forward-looking in advancing peace and
reconciliation. One of the primary challenges in providing reparations is addressing past wrongs
and determining who is eligible. Another important dilemma she brings up is that frequently
future generations are called upon to provide reparations or 'affirmative action' -- is this just?
Another common response to try to achieve justice after a legacy of human rights abuses has
been through administrative measures. These measures explicitly redistribute power between
groups, often covering entire classes of people. "The asserted purpose of the politicized exercise
of administrative law is always the noble one of guarding the transition: nevertheless, this use of
the law, grounded as it is in categorical judgment, resembles the political justice of totalitarian
regimes." (149) She discusses 'Bernays' Brain Child' from Nuremberg in which the use of
criminalizing organizations and convicting individuals based on membership and the problems of
lustration in East and Central Europe. There is a dilemma in administrative measures at
transition. "[I]nsofar as the logic of political conditionality is largely justified in forward-looking
terms, the democracy justification seems internally incoherent: For leveling political conditions
on individuals based on past behavior largely elides the potential of newly created political
institutions." (169) There is a desire to protect the burgeoning democracy, but these measures are
illiberal.
Finally, the author considers the role of constitutions in transitional times. Returning to the over
simplistic views of realist and idealist views, she finds that constitutions have a reciprocal
relationship. Constitutions both shape the transition and are shaped by it. She argues that
constitutions at transitions are often explicitly seen as provisional rather than permanent so are
not necessarily foundational. Issues are illustrated through discussions of imposed constitutions
in Germany and Japan, transitions in Eastern Europe, and the evolution of the American
Constitution.

Transatlantic Slave Trade

The transatlantic slave trade is unique within the universal history of slavery for three main
reasons:

its duration - approximately four centuries

those vicitimized: black African men, women

and children

the intellectual legitimization attempted on its behalf - the development of an

anti-black ideology and its legal organization, the notorious Code noir.

As a commercial and economic enterprise, the slave trade provides a dramatic example of
the consequences resulting from particular intersections of history and geography. It involved
several regions and continents: Africa, America, the Caribbean, Europe and the Indian Ocean.
The transatlantic slave trade is often regarded as the first system of globalization. According to
French historian Jean-Michel Deveau the slave trade and consequently slavery, which lasted
from the 16th to the 19th century, constitute one of "the greatest tragedies in the history of
humanity in terms of scale and duration".
The transatlantic slave trade was the biggest deportation in history and a determining factor in
the world economy of the 18th century. Millions of Africans were torn from their homes,
deported to the American continent and sold as slaves.
Triangular Trade
The transatlantic slave trade, often known as the triangular trade, connected the economies of
three continents. It is estimated that between 25 to 30 million people, men, women and children,
were deported from their homes and sold as slaves in the different slave trading systems. In the
transatlantic slave trade alone the estimate of those deported is believed to be approximately 17
million. These figures exclude those who died aboard the ships and in the course of wars and
raids connected to the trade.
The trade proceeded in three steps. The ships left Western Europe for Africa loaded with goods
which were to be exchanged for slaves. Upon their arrival in Africa the captains traded their
merchandise for captive slaves. Weapons and gun powder were the most important commodities
but textiles, pearls and other manufactured goods, as well as rum, were also in high demand. The
exchange could last from one week to several months. The second step was the crossing of the
Atlantic. Africans were transported to America to be sold throughout the continent. The third step
connected America to Europe. The slave traders brought back mostly agricultural products,
produced by the slaves. The main product was sugar, followed by cotton, coffee, tobacco and
rice.
The circuit lasted approximately eighteen months. In order to be able to transport the maximum
number of slaves, the ships steerage was frequently removed. Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands,
England and France, were the main triangular trading countries.
The transatlantic slave trade: introduction

The transatlantic slave trade was responsible for the forced migration of between 12 - 15 million
people from Africa to the Western Hemisphere from the middle of the 15th century to the end of
the 19th century. The trafficking of Africans by the major European countries during this period
is sometimes referred to by African scholars as the Maafa ('great disaster' in Swahili). It's now
considered a crime against humanity.

The slave trade not only led to the violent transportation overseas of millions of Africans but also
to the deaths of many millions more. Nobody knows the total number of people who died during
slave raiding and wars in Africa, during transportation and imprisonment, or in horrendous
conditions during the so-called Middle Passage, the voyage from Africa to the Americas.

The kidnapping of Africans occurred mainly in the region that now stretches from Senegal to
Angola. However, in the 19th century some enslaved Africans were also transported across the
Atlantic from parts of eastern and south-eastern Africa.

The trade
All the major European powers were involved in this enterprise, but by the early 18th century,
Britain became the world's leading slave trading power. It's estimated that British ships were
responsible for the forced transportation of at least 2-3 million Africans in that century.

So dominant were British ships and merchants that they carried away African captives not only
to British colonies in North America and the Caribbean but even to the colonies of their main
economic rivals, the French and Spanish, as well as to others'.

Geographical spread
The majority of kidnapped Africans weren't already slaves in Africa. They were free people who
were kidnapped to provide the labour that the European powers required to build their colonies
in the Americas. The largest numbers of Africans almost 5 million were imported into Brazil,
but enslaved Africans were sent to most of the colonies of South and Central America and the
Caribbean, as well as to what became the United States.

Some Africans were transported to Europe and lived in such countries as Portugal and France as
well as in England.

The Triangular Trade

The transatlantic slave trade is sometimes known as the 'Triangular Trade', since it was threesided, involving voyages:

from Europe to Africa

from Africa to the Americas

from the Americas back to Europe.

It's generally seen as a 'trade' since it revolved around transactions, or a form of exchange,
between the African sellers and the European buyers of captives. Indeed, it would have been
impossible for European slave traders to venture into Africa and procure African captives
without some African involvement African kingdoms and societies were too strong and well
organised. Even when Europeans built forts on the coast of West Africa, this was on land given,
or rented, from Africans for this purpose.

Unequal relationship
However, African kings and merchants were engaged in an unequal trade, since African societies
gained little of permanent value, certainly nothing that led to significant economic development.

Europeans, on the other hand, generally exported manufactured items such as alcohol, textiles
and guns to Africa to be exchanged for African captives. The production of such items, as well as
the construction of ships, shackles and other items connected with the slave trade, certainly
contributed to the development of manufacturing in Europe.

The African labour purchased with manufactured goods was then used in the Americas to
produce luxury items and other things that were valuable and in great demand in Europe, such as
sugar, tobacco and cotton. In addition, the slave trade contributed to the growth of banking and
insurance in Europe and provided the finance to develop European capitalist economies further.

Africa may have supplied the human labour that was central to these developments in Europe,
but it didn't benefit from them itself. Instead, it lost millions of people, many of its societies were
ravaged and it placed itself in an enduring unequal relationship with Europe that created the
conditions for colonial conquest and its legacy.

Diaspora
While the slave trade had a major impact on the economic development of the modern world, it
also contributed to the emergence of a new African diaspora, particularly the spread of people of
African origin to the Americas. Today there are tens of millions of people of African origin who,
as a consequence of the forced removal of their ancestors, live in the Caribbean, the United
States, Brazil and other countries in the Western Hemisphere, as well as elsewhere outside
Africa.
When these millions of people were physically removed from their homelands, they took with
them their languages, beliefs, craftsmanship, skills, music, dance, art and other important
elements of culture. As a result, today we're surrounded by the legacy of the slave trade in a
multitude of forms.

Racism
Another legacy of the slave trade is the continued existence of a body of ideas initially
formulated to justify it and which now underpins modern anti-African racism in all its forms.
These harmful ideas have no basis in fact but were and are designed to suggest that Africa and
Africans are inferior to Europe and Europeans in a variety of ways.
These views permeated the centuries of the slave trade and the enslavement of Africans and
continued to be expressed during the post-slavery colonial era. They still exist today in the form
of racial stereotypes and prejudices and racist violence, as well as Eurocentric views about
Africa, its peoples and their cultures.

Protests and resistance

The slave trade finally came to an end due to a variety of factors, including the protests of
millions of ordinary people in Europe and the United States. Its abolition was also brought about
by millions of Africans who continually resisted enslavement and rebelled against slavery in
order to be free.

Resistance started in Africa, continued during the so-called Middle Passage and broke out again
throughout the Americas. The most significant of all these acts of resistance and self-liberation
was the revolution in the French colony of St Domingue, now Haiti, in 1791. It remains the only
successful slave revolution in history and led to the creation of the first modern black republic.
Haiti's constitution was the first to recognise the human rights of all its citizens.

The end of the slave trade

First Denmark in 1803, and Britain in 1807, and then other countries in Europe and the Americas
abolished the transatlantic slave trade for a variety of reasons including changes in their
economic requirements. However, an illegal trade continued for many years, and slavery itself
was not abolished in some countries until the 1880s. In Brazil for example, slavery continued to
be legal until 1888.

Slavery in Brazil began long before the first Portuguese settlement was established in
1532, as members of one tribe would enslave captured members of another.[1] Later, colonists
were heavily dependent on indigenous labor during the initial phases of settlement to maintain
the subsistence economy, and natives were often captured by expeditions called bandeiras,
originating in So Paulo. The importation of African slaves began midway through the 16th
century, but the enslavement of indigenous peoples continued well into the 17th and 18th
centuries.
During the Atlantic slave trade era, Brazil imported more African slaves than any other country.
An estimated 4.9 million slaves from Africa came to Brazil during the period from 1501 to 1866.
[2]
Until the early 1850s, most enslaved Africans who arrived on Brazilian shores were forced to
embark at West Central African ports, especially in Luanda (present-day Angola). Today, with
the exception of Nigeria, the largest population of people of African descent is in Brazil.[3]

Slave labor was the driving force behind the growth of the sugar economy in Brazil, and sugar
was the primary export of the colony from 16001650. Gold and diamond deposits were
discovered in Brazil in 1690, which sparked an increase in the importation of African slaves to
power this newly profitable market. Transportation systems were developed for the mining
infrastructure, and population boomed from immigrants seeking to take part in gold and diamond
mining.
Demand for African slaves did not wane after the decline of the mining industry in the second
half of the 18th century. Cattle ranching and foodstuff production proliferated after the
population growth, both of which relied heavily on slave labor. 1.7 million slaves were imported
to Brazil from Africa from 1700 to 1800, and the rise of coffee in the 1830s further enticed
expansion of the slave trade.
Brazil was the last country in the Western world to abolish slavery. By the time it was abolished,
in 1888, an estimated four million slaves had been imported from Africa to Brazil, 40% of the
total number of slaves brought to the Americas.

History
Origins
The Portuguese became involved with the African slave trade first during the Reconquista
("reconquest") of the Iberian Peninsula mainly through the mediation of the Alfaqueque: the
person tasked with the rescue of Portuguese captives, slaves and prisoners of war;[4][5] and then
later in 1441, long before the colonization of Brazil, but now as slave traders. Slaves exported
from Africa during this initial period of the Portuguese slave trade primarily came from
Mauritania, and later the Upper Guinea coast. Scholars estimate that as many as 156,000 slaves
were exported from 1441 to 1521 to Iberia and the Atlantic islands from the African coast. The
trade made the shift from Europe to the Americas as a primary destination for slaves around
1518. Prior to this time, slaves were required to pass through Portugal to be taxed before making
their way to the Americas.[6]
Slavery begins in Portuguese Brazil
The Portuguese first traveled to Brazil in 1500 under the expedition of Pedro lvares Cabral,
though the first Portuguese settlement was not established until 1532.[7] Long before Europeans
came to Brazil and began colonization, indigenous groups such as the Papanases, the Guaianases,
the Tupinambs, or the Cadiueus enslaved captured members of other tribes. The captured lived
and worked with their new communities as trophies to the tribes martial prowess. Some
enslaved would eventually escape but could never re-attain their previous status in their own
tribe because of the strong social stigma against slavery and rival tribes. During their time in the
new tribe, enslaved indigenous would even marry as a sign of acceptance and servitude. For the
enslaved of cannibalistic tribes, execution for devouring purposes (cannibalistic ceremonies)
could happen at any moment. While other tribes did not consume human flesh, their enslaved
were still put to work, imprisoned, used as hostages, and killed mercilessly.[1][8][9]

The colonization effort proved to be a difficult undertaking on such a vast continent, and
indigenous slave labor was quickly turned to for agricultural workforce needs. Aggressive
mission networks of the Portuguese Jesuits were the driving force behind this recruitment, and
they successfully mobilized an indigenous labor force to live in colonial villages to work the
land. These indigenous enslaving expeditions were known as bandeiras.[10]

Domingos Jorge Velho, a notable Bandeirante

These expeditions were composed of Bandeirantes, adventurers who penetrated steadily

westward in their search for Indian slaves. These adventurers came from a wide spectrum of
backgrounds, including plantation owners, traders, members of the military, as well as people of
mixed ancestry and previously captured Indian slaves.[10] In 1629, Antnio Raposo Tavares led a
bandeira, composed of 2,000 allied ndios, "Indians", 900 mamelucos, "mestizos" and 69 whites,
to find precious metals and stones and to capture Indians for slavery. This expedition alone was
responsible for the enslavement of over 60,000 indigenous people.[11][12][13][14][15]
African slavery became more common in Brazil during the mid 16th century, though the
enslavement of indigenous people continued into the 17th and even the 18th century in the
backlands of Brazil. Indigenous slaves remained much cheaper during this time than their
African counterparts, though they did suffer horrendous death rates from European diseases.
Although the average African slave lived to only be twenty-three years old due to terrible work
conditions, this was still about four years longer than Indigenous slaves, which was a big
contribution to high price of African slaves.[10] Even though prices for indigenous slaves were
cheaper, there was never a focus on maintaining slave families the way it was in the United
States, for example. Because enslaved peoples were always so available, either through conquest
or buying them through the market, the economic incentive to keep families together never
manifested itself.[16]
Slavery was not only endured by native Indians or blacks. As the distinction between prisoners of
war and slaves was blurred, the enslavement, although at a lesser scale, of captured Europeans
also took place. The Dutch were reported to have sold Portuguese, captured in Brazil, as slaves,

[17]

and of using African slaves in Dutch Brazil[18] There are also reports of Brazilians enslaved by
barbary pirates while crossing the ocean.[19]
In the subsequent centuries, many freed slaves and descendants of slaves became slave owners.
[20]
Eduardo Frana Paiva estimates that about one third of slave owners were either freed slaves
or descendent of slaves.[21]
Confrarias and Compadrio
The Confrarias, religious brotherhoods,[22][23] that included slaves, Indians and Africans, and non
slaves were frequently a doorway to freedom, as was the "compadrio", co-godparenthood a part
of the kinship network.[24]
17th century
Brazil was the worlds leading sugar exporter during the 17th century. From 1600 to 1650, sugar
accounted for 95 percent of Brazils exports, and slave labor was relied heavily upon to provide
the workforce to maintain these export earnings. It is estimated that 560,000 Central African
slaves arrived in Brazil during the 17th century in addition to the indigenous slave labor that was
provided by the bandeiras.[6]
The appearance of slavery in Brazil dramatically changed with the discovery of gold and
diamond deposits in the mountains of Minas Gerais in the 1690s[7] Slaves started being imported
from Central Africa and the Mina coast to mining camps in enormous numbers.[6] Over the next
century the population boomed from immigration and Rio de Janeiro exploded as a global export
center. Urban slavery in new city centers like Rio and Salvador also heightened demand for
slaves. Transportation systems for moving wealth were developed, and cattle ranching and
foodstuff production expanded after the decline of the mining industries in the second half of the
18th century. Between 1700 and 1800, 1.7 million slaves were brought to Brazil from Africa[7] to
make this sweeping growth possible.
19th century and the rise of Abolitionism
By 1819 the population of Brazil was 3.6 million, and at least one third were African slaves. By
1825 the figure may have been as high as 56%.[25] In 1826 the first article of a convention drawn
in Rio de Janeiro stated it should not be lawful for the subjects of the Emperor of Brazil to be
concerned in the carrying on of the African slave trade, under any pretext or in any manner
whatever, and the carrying on of such after that period, by any person, subject of His Imperial
Majesty, shall [should] be deemed and treated as piracy.[26] The announcement of this treaty
caused great excitement in Brazil, for many believed it meant immediate suspension of the slave
trade. However, when coffee production exploded in the 1830s in Rio de Janeiro as the crop that
would fuel the export economy for the next 140 years, this new demand on the trade was not
quelled by the treaty.[10] The British forcibly halted the trade with Africa by the 1850s, and the
country then became dependent on an internal slave labor force as well as Spanish and Italian
immigrant workers.[7] Nonetheless, despite laws banning their importation, between 1808 and
1888 more than a million new slaves were forcibly shipped to Brazil.[25]

The slaves who were freed and returned to Africa, the Aguds, continued to be seen as slaves by
the African autochthonous population. As they had left Africa as slaves, when they returned
although now as free people, they were not accepted in the local society who saw them as slaves.
[27]
In Africa they also took part in the slave trade now as slave merchants.[28]
Resistance

The Afro-Brazilian bounty hunter looking for escaped slaves c. 1823

There were relatively few large revolts in Brazil for much of the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries,
most likely because running away into the expansive interior presented an attractive alternative
to the dangers of revolt.[7] In the years after the Haitian Revolution, ideals of liberty and freedom
had spread to even Brazil. In Rio de Janeiro in 1805, "soldiers of African descent wore medallion
portraits of the emperor Dessalines." [29] Jean-Jacques Dessalines was one of the African leaders
of the Haitian Revolution that inspired blacks throughout the world to fight for their rights as
humans to live and die free. After the defeat of the French in Haiti, demand for sugar continued
to increase and without the consistent production of sugar in Haiti the world turned to Brazil as
the next largest exporter [29] African slaves continued to be imported and were concentrated in the
northeastern region of Bahia, a region infamous for cruel, yet prolific, sugar plantations. African
slaves recently brought to Brazil were less likely to accept their condition and eventually were
able to create coalitions with the purpose of overthrowing their masters. From 1807 to 1835,
these groups instigated numerous slave revolts in Bahia with a violence and terror that were
previously unknown.[30]
The Muslim Uprising of 1835
Main article: Mal Revolt

The largest and most significant of these uprisings occurred in 1835 in Salvador, called the
Muslim Uprising of 1835. It was planned by an African-born Muslim ethnic group of slaves, the
Mals, as a revolt that would free all of the slaves in Bahia. While organized by the Mals, all of
the African ethnic groups were represented in the participants, both Muslim and non-Muslim.[7]
However, there is a conspicuous absence of Brazilian-born slaves who participated in the
rebellion. An estimated 300 rebels were arrested, of which nearly 250 were African slaves and

freedmen.[31] Brazilian-born slaves and ex-slaves represented 40% of the population of Bahia, but
a total of two mulattoes and three Brazilian-born blacks were arrested during the revolt.[30] What's
more, the uprising was efficiently quelled by mulatto troops by the day after its instigation.
The fact that Africans were not joined in the 1835 revolt by mulattoes was far from unusual; in
fact, no Brazilian blacks had participated in the 20 previous revolts in Bahia during that time
period. Masters played a large role in creating tense relations between Africans and AfroBrazilians, for they generally favored mulattoes and native Brazilian slaves, who consequently
experienced better manumission rates. Masters were aware of the importance of tension between
groups to maintain the repressive status quo, as stated by Luis dos Santos Vilhema, circa 1798,
"...if African slaves are treacherous, and mulattoes are even more so; and if not for the rivalry
between the former and the latter, all the political power and social order would crumble before a
servile revolt..." The master class was able to put mulatto troops to use controlling slaves with
little backlash, thus, the freed black and mulatto population was considered as much an enemy to
slaves as the white population.[30]

Slaves mine for diamonds in Minas Gerais (ca. 1770s).

Not only was a unified rebellion effort against the oppressive regime of slavery prevented in
Bahia by the tensions between Africans and Brazilian-born African descendants, but ethnic
tensions within the African-born slave population itself prevented formation of a common slave
identity.[30]
Quilombo (runaway slaves)
Main article: Quilombo

Escaped slaves formed Maroon[32] communities which played an important role in the histories of
other countries such as Suriname, Puerto Rico, Cuba, and Jamaica. In Brazil the Maroon villages
were called quilombos and the most famous was Quilombo dos Palmares. Here escaped slaves,
army deserters, mulattos, and indigenous flocked to participate in this underground society.

Quilombos reflected the peoples will and soon the governing and social bodies of Palamares
mirrored Central African political models. From 1605 to 1694 Palmares grew and attracted
thousands from across Brazil. Though Palmares was eventually defeated and its inhabitants
dispersed among the country, the formative period allowed for continuation of African traditions
and helped create a distinct African culture in Brazil.[33]
Steps towards freedom

Brazil achieved independence from Portugal in 1822. However, the complete collapse of colonial
government took place from 18211824.[34] Jos Bonifcio de Andrade e Silva is credited as the
"Father of Brazilian Independence". Around 1822, Representao to the Constituent Assembly
was published arguing for an end to the slave trade and for the gradual emancipation of existing
slaves.[35]
Brazil's 1877-78 Grande Seca (Great Drought) in the cotton-growing northeast, led to major
turmoil, starvation, poverty and internal migration. As wealthy plantation holders rushed to sell
their slaves in the south, popular resistance and resentment grew, inspiring numerous
emancipation societies. They succeeded in banning slavery altogether in the province of Cear
by 1884.[36]
Activists

Jean-Baptiste Debret, a French painter who was active in Brazil in the first decades of the 19th
century, started out by painting portraits of members of the Brazilian Imperial Family, but soon
became concerned with the slavery of both blacks and the indigenous inhabitants. During the
fifteen years Debret spent in Brazil, he concentrated not only on court rituals but the everyday
life of slaves as well. His paintings (one of which appears on this page) helped draw attention to
the subject in both Europe and Brazil itself.

Cross-section of a slaver ship, from Notices of Brazil in 1828 and 1829 by Robert
Walsh

The Clapham Sect, although their religious and political influence was more active in Spanish
Latin America, were a group of evangelical reformers that campaigned during much of the 19th

century for the United Kingdom to use its influence and power to stop the traffic of slaves to
Brazil. Besides moral qualms, the low cost of slave-produced Brazilian sugar meant that British
colonies in the West Indies were unable to match the market prices of Brazilian sugar, and each
Briton was consuming 16 pounds (7 kg) of sugar a year by the 19th century. This combination
led to intensive pressure from the British government for Brazil to end this practice, which it did
by steps over three decades.[37]
The end of slavery

In 1872, the population of Brazil was 10 million, and 15% were slaves. As a result of widespread
manumission (easier in Brazil than in North America), by this time approximately three quarters
of blacks and mulattoes in Brazil were free.[25] Slavery was not legally ended nationwide until
1888 by the Lei urea ("Golden Act"), a legal act promulgated on May 13 by Isabel, Princess
Imperial of Brazil. In fact, it was an institution in decline by this time (since the 1880s the
country began to attract European immigrant labor instead). Brazil was the last nation in the
Western world to abolish slavery, and by abolition had imported an estimated total of four
million slaves from Africa. This was 40% of all slaves shipped to the Americas.[7]

Slave identities
In colonial Brazil, identity became a complex combination of race, skin color, and
socioeconomic status because of the extensive diversity of the both the slave and free population.
For example, in 1872 43% of the population was free mulattoes and blacks. There are four broad
categories that show the general divisions among the identities of the slave and ex-slave
populations: African-born slaves, African-born ex-slaves, Brazilian-born slaves, and Brazilianborn ex-slaves.
African-born slaves

This painting by Johann Moritz Rugendas depicts a scene below deck of a slave ship
headed to Brazil. Rugendas was an eyewitness to the scene.

A slaves identity was not only stripped when sold into the slave trade, but they were assigned a
new identity that was to be immediately adopted in stride. This new identity often came in the
form of a new name, created by a Christian or Portuguese first name randomly issued by the
baptizing priest, and followed by the label of an African nation. In Brazil, these "labels" were
predominantly Angola, Congo, Yoruba, Ashanti, Rebolo, Anjico, Gabon, and Mozambique.[38]
Often these names were not assigned with regards to ethnicity or origin, but only served as a way

for Europeans to divide Africans in a familiar manner. Anthropologist Jack Goody stated, "Such
new names served to cut the individuals off from their kinfolk, their society, from humanity itself
and at the same time emphasized their servile status".[38]
A critical part of the initiation of any sort of collective identity for African-born slaves began
with relationships formed on slave ships crossing the middle passage. Shipmates called each
other malungos, and this relationship was considered as important and valuable as the
relationship with their wives and children. Malungos were often ethnically related as well, for
slaves shipped on the same boat were usually from similar geographical regions of Africa.[38]
African-born ex-slaves
One of the most important markers of the freedom of a slave was the adoption of a last name
upon being freed. These names would often be the family names of their ex-owners, either in
part or in full. Since many slaves had the same or similar Christian name assigned from their
baptism, it was common for a slave to be called both their Portuguese or Christian name as well
as the name of their master. "Maria, for example, became known as Sr. Santana's Maria". Thus, it
was mostly a matter of convenience when a slave was freed for him or her to adopt the surname
of their ex-owner for assimilation into the community as a free person.[38]
Obtaining freedom was not a guarantee of escape from poverty or from many aspects of slave
life. Frequently legal freedom did not come with a change in occupation for the ex-slave.
However, there was increased opportunity for both sexes to become involved in wage earning.
Women ex-slaves largely dominated market places selling food and goods in urban areas like
Salvador, while a significant percent of African-born men freed from slavery became employed
as skilled artisans, including work as sculptors, carpenters, and jewelers.[38]
Another area of income important to African-born ex-slaves was their own work as slavers upon
being granted their freedom. In fact, purchase of slaves was a standard practice for ex-slaves who
could afford it. This is evidence of the lack of a common identity among those born in Africa and
shipped to Brazil, for it was much more common for ex-slaves to engage in the slave trade
themselves than to take up any cause related to abolition or resistance to slavery.[38]
Brazilian-born slaves and ex-slaves

Punishing slaves at Calabouco, in Rio de Janeiro, c. 1822

A Brazilian-born slave was born into slavery, meaning their identity was based on very different
factors than those of the African-born who had once known legal freedom. Skin color was a
significant factor in determining the status of African descendants born in Brazil: lighter-skinned
slaves had both higher chances of manumission as well as better social mobility if they were
granted freedom, making it important in the identity of both Brazilian-born slaves and ex-slaves.
[38]

The term crioulo was primarily used in the early 19th century, and meant Brazilian-born and
black. Mulatto was used to refer to lighter-skinned Brazilian-born Africans, who often were
children of both African and European descent. As compared to their African-born counterparts,
manumission for long-term good behavior or obedience upon the owners death was much more
likely. Thus, unpaid manumission was a much more likely path to freedom for Brazilian-born
slaves than for Africans, as well as manumission in general.[39] Mulattoes also had a higher
incidence of manumission, most likely because of the likelihood that they were the children of a
slave and an owner.[38]
Race relations
These color divides reinforced racial barriers between African and Brazilian slaves, and often
created animosity between them. These differences were heightened after freedom was granted,
for lighter skin correlated with social mobility and the greater chance an ex-slave could distance
his or herself from their former slave life. Thus, mulattoes and lighter-skinned ex-slaves had
larger opportunity to improve their socioeconomic status within the confines of the colonial
Brazilian social structure. As a consequence, self-segregation was common, as mulattoes
preferred to separate their identity as much as possible from blacks. One way this is visible is
from data on church marriages during the 19th century. Church marriage was an expensive affair,
and one only the more successful ex-slaves were able to afford, and these marriages were also
almost always endogamous. The fact that skin color largely dictated possible partners in
marriage promoted racial distinctions as well. Interracial marriage was a rarity, and was almost
always a case of a union between a white man and a mulatto woman.[38]

Gender divides
The invisibility of women in Brazilian slavery as well as in slavery in general has only been
recently recognized as an important void in history. Historian Mary Helen Washington wrote,
"the life of the male slave has come to be representative even though the female experience in
slavery was sometimes radically different."[40] In Brazil, the sectors of slavery and wage-labor for
ex-slaves were indeed distinct by gender.

Women
Work

House slaves c. 1820, by Jean-Baptiste Debret

Labor performed by both slave and freed women was largely divided between domestic work
and the market scene, which was much larger in urban cities like Salvador and Rio de Janeiro.
The domestic work women performed for owners was traditional, consisting of cooking,
cleaning, laundry, fetching water, and childcare. In the 1870s, 87-90% of slave women in Rio
worked as domestic servants, and an estimated 34,000 slave and free women labored as
domestics. Thus, Brazilian women in urban centers often blurred the lines that separated the
work and lives of the slave and the free.[41]
In urban settings, African slave markets provided an additional source of income for both slave
and ex-slave women, who typically monopolized sales. This trend of the marketplace being
predominantly the realm of women has its origins in African customs. Wilhelm Muller, a
German minister, observed in his travels to the Gold Coast, "Apart from the peasants who bring
palm-wine and sugarcane to the market everyday, there are no men who stand in public markets
to trade, only women."[42] The women sold tropical fruits and vegetables, cooked African dishes,
candies, cakes, meat, and fish.[38]
Prostitution was almost exclusively a trade performed by slave women, many of whom were
forced into it to benefit their owners socially and financially. Slave women were also used by
freed men as concubines or common-law wives and often worked for them in addition as
household labor, wet nurses, cooks, and peddlers.[43]
Enslaved women on plantations were often given the same work as men. Slaveholders often put
slave women to work alongside men in the grueling atmosphere of the fields, but were aware of
ways to exploit them with regards to their gender as well. Choosing between the two was
regularly a matter of expediency for the owners.[44] In both small and large estates women were
heavily involved in fieldwork, and the chance to be exempted in favor of domestic work was a
privilege. Their roles in reproduction were still emphasized by owners, but often childbirth only
meant that the physical demands of the field were forced to coexist with the emotional and
physical pull of parenthood.[42]

Status

The dual-sphere nature of womens work, in household domestic labor, and in the market place,
allowed for both additional opportunities at financial resources as well as a larger social circle
than their male counterparts. This gave women greater resources both as slaves and as ex-slaves,
though their mobility was hindered by gender constraints. However, women often fared better in
manumission possibilities. Among Brazilian-born adult ex-slaves in Salvador in the 18th century,
60% were women.[38]
There are many reasons that could explain why women were disproportionately represented in
manumitted Brazilian slaves. Women who worked in the home were able to form more intimate
relationships with the owner and the family, increasing their chances of unpaid manumission for
reasons of "good behavior" or "obedience"[38] Additionally, male slaves were economically seen
as more useful especially by landowners, making their manumission more costly to the owner
and therefore for the slave himself.
Men
Work

Recently bought slaves in Brazil on their way to the farms of the landowners who
bought them, c. 1830.

The work of male slaves was a much more formal affair, especially in urban settings as
compared to the experience of slave women. Often, male work groups were divided by ethnicity
to work as porters and transporters in gangs, transporting furniture and agricultural products by
water or from ships to the marketplace. It was also the role of slave men to bring new slaves
from ships to auction. Men also were used as fishermen, canoeists, oarsmen, sailors, and artisans.
Up to one-fourth of slaves from 18111888 were employed as artisans, and many were men who
worked as carpenters, painters, sculptors, and jewelers.[38]
Males also did certain kinds of domestic work in cities like Rio and Salvador, including
starching, ironing, fetching water, and dumping waste.[41] On plantations outside of urban areas
however, men were primarily involved in fieldwork with women. Their roles on larger estates
also included working in boiling houses and tending cattle.[42]

Modern era
Contemporary slavery
In 1995, 288 farmworkers were freed from what was officially described as a contemporary
forced labor situation. This number eventually rose to 583 in 2000. In 2001, however, the
Brazilian government freed more than 1,400 slave laborers from many different forced labor
institutions varying throughout the country. The majority of forced labor, whether coerced
through debt, violence, or through another manner, is often unreported. The danger that these
individuals face in their day-to-day life often make it extremely difficult to turn to authorities and
report what is going on. A national survey conducted in 2000 by the Pastoral Land Commission,
a Roman Catholic church group, estimated that there were more than 25,000 forced workers and
slaves in Brazil.[45] In 2007, in an admission to the United Nations, the Brazilian government
declared that at least 25,000-40,000 Brazilians work under work conditions "analogous to
slavery." The top anti-slavery official in Braslia, Brazil's capital, estimates the number of
modern enslaved at 50,000.[46]
Every year it seems as new evidence is found that modern slavery is occurring. In 2007, the
Brazilian Government freed more than 1,000 forced laborers from a sugar plantation.[47] In 2008,
the Brazilian government freed 4,634 slaves in 133 separate criminal cases at 255 different
locations. Freed slaves received a total compensation of 2.4 million (equal to $4.8 million).[48]
Though they received monetary compensation for their government's inability to protect them,
the emotional cost for former enslaved will forever remain with the individual.
In March 2012, European consumer protection organizations published a study about slavery and
cruelty to animals involved when producing leather shoes. A Danish organization was contracted
to visit farms, slaughterhouses and tanneries in Brazil and India. The conditions of humans found
were catastrophic, as well the treatment of the animals was found cruel. None of the 16
companies surveyed were able to track the used products down to the final producers.
Timberland did not participate, but was found the winner as it showed at least some signs of
transparency on its website.[49][50]
In 2013, the U.S. Department of Labor's Findings on the Worst Forms of Child Labor in Brazil
reported that children in this country are mostly "engaged in child labor in agriculture and
domestic work."[51]
In 2014, the Bureau of International Labor Affairs issued a List of Goods Produced by Child
Labor or Forced Labor where Brazil was classified as one of the 74 countries still involved in
child labor and forced labor practices.[52]

Carnaval and Il Aiy

Campo Grande Circuit, on September Seven Avenue.

A yearly celebration that allows insight into race relations, Carnival is a weeklong festival
celebrated all around the world. In Brazil it is associated with numerous facets of Brazilian
culture: soccer, samba, music, performances, and costumes. The Brazilian Carnival is unlike any
other national festival in the world. Schools are on holiday, workers have the week off, and a
general sense of jubilee fills the streets, where musicians parade around to huge crowds of
cheering fans.[53]
It was during Brazils military dictatorship, defined by many as Brazils darkest period, when a
group called Il Aiy came together to protest black exclusion within the majority black state of
Bahia. There had been a series of protests at the beginning of the 1970s that raised awareness for
back unification but they were met with severe suppression. Prior to 1974, Afro-Bahians would
leave their houses with only religious figurines to celebrate Carnival. Though under increased
scrutiny attributed to the military dictatorship, Il Aiy succeeded in created a black only bloco
(Carnaval parade group) that manifested the ideals of the Brazilian Black Movement.[54] Their
purpose was to unite the Afro-Brazilians affected by the oppressive government and politically
organize so that there could be lasting change among their community.
Il Aiy's success has continued ever since and their numbers have grown into the thousands.
Even today, the black only bloco continues to exclude others because of their skin color. They do
this by advertising exclusive parties and benefits for members, as well as physically shunning
and pushing you away if you try to include yourself. Though the media has called it racist, to a
large degree the black-only bloco has become one of the most interesting aspects of Salvadors
Carnaval and is continuously accepted as a way of life. Combined with the influence of
Olodum[55] in Salvador, musical protest and representation as a product of slavery and black
consciousness has slowly grown into a more powerful force. Musical representation of problems
and issues have long been part of Brazil's history, and Il Aiy and Olodum both produce
creative ways to remain relevant and popular.
Legacy of slavery
Slavery as an institution in Brazil was unrivaled in all of the Americas. The sheer number of
African slaves brought to Brazil and moved around South America greatly influenced the
entirety of the Americas. Indigenous groups, Portuguese colonists, and African slaves all
contributed to the melting pot that has created Brazil. The mixture of African religions that

survived throughout slavery and Catholicism, Candombl, has created some of the most
interesting and diverse cultural aspects. In Bahia, statues of African gods called Orishas pay
homage to the unique African presence in the nations largest Afro-Brazilian state.[56] Not only
are these Orishas direct links to their past ancestry, but also reminders to the cultures the
Brazilian people come from. Condombl and the Orishas serve as an ever present reminder that
African slaves were brought to Brazil. Though their lives were different in Brazil, their culture
has been preserved at least to some degree.
Since the 1990s, despite the increasing public attention given to slavery through national and
international initiatives like UNESCOs Slave Route Project, Brazil has mounted very few
initiatives commemorating and memorializing slavery and the Atlantic slave trade. However, in
the last decade Brazil has begun engaging in several initiatives underscoring its slave past and
the importance of African heritage. Gradually, all over the country statues celebrating Zumbi, the
leader of Palmares, Brazilian long-lasting quilombo (runaway slave community) were unveiled.
Capital cities like Rio de Janeiro and even Porto Alegre created permanent markers
commemorating heritage sites of slavery and the Atlantic slave trade. Among the most recent and
probably the most famous initiatives of this kind is the Valong Wharf slave memorial in Rio de
Janeiro (the site where almost one million enslaved Africans disembarked).[3]
Slavery and systematic inequality and disadvantage still exist within Brazil. Though much
progress has been made since abolition, unequal representation in all levels of society
perpetuates ongoing racial prejudice. Most obvious are the stark contrasts between white and
black Brazilians in media, government, and private business. Brazil continues to grow and
succeed economically, yet its poorest regions and neighborhood slums (favelas), occupied by
majority Afro-Brazilians, are shunned and forgotten.[57] Large developments within cities
displace poor Afro-Brazilians and the government relocates them conveniently to the periphery
of the city. It has been argued that most Afro-Brazilians live as second-class citizens, working in
service industries that perpetuate their relative poorness while their white counterparts are
afforded opportunities through education and work because of their skin color. Advocation for
equal rights in Brazil are hard to understand because of how mixed Brazil's population is.
However, there is no doubt that the number of visible Afro-Brazilian leaders in business, politics,
and media are disproportionate to their white counterpart.[50]

Rocinha Favela Brazil Slums

In 2012, Brazil passed an affirmative action law in an attempt to directly fight the legacy of
slavery.[58] Through it Brazilian policy makers have forced state universities, regarded very
highly because it is free and of high quality, to have a certain quota of Afro-Brazilians. Due to
the percentage of Afro-Brazilians to be admitted, as high as 30% in some states, cause great
social discontent that some argue furthers racial tensions.[59] However, it is because of the
unequal opportunities available to Afro-Brazilians that these high quotas are needed it is argued.
[57]
In 2012 Brazils Supreme Court unanimously held the law constitutional. However, in sectors
like education, political representation, and overall quality of life, opportunities and capabilities
for Afro-Brazilians will continue to increase.[57] Brazil's government will continue to provide for
all of its people as it sees fit, but the issue of slavery and its legacy may forever be felt in all
facets of Brazilian life.

The Transatlantic slave trade radically impaired Africas potential to develop economically and
maintain its social and political stability. The arrival of Europeans on the West African Coast and
their establishment of slave ports in various parts of the continent triggered a continuous
process of exploitation of Africas human resources, labor, and commodities. This exploitative
commerce influenced major segments of the African political and religious aristocracies, the
warrior classes, and the biracial elite, who were making small gains from the slave trade, to
participate in the oppression of their own people. Yet Europeans benefited from the Atlantic
trade the most, since the commerce allowed them to amass the raw materials that fed their
Industrial Revolution at the detriment of African societies whose peace and capacity to transform
their modes of production into a viable entrepreneurial economy was severely halted.
The Atlantic slave trade had drastic impacts on African societies. Initially conceived by both
Europeans and Africans as a small-scale enterprise for the exchange of goods and a few
slaves, it later became a ruthless and demonic machine that drained Africas human and
economic resources. By massively responding to Europes growing demand for slaves, African
societies started up a commercial process that progressively hampered their economic, political
and social developments. The trade inflated Africas economy by reducing it to a monoculture
based on the sale of human beings. As a result, the once strong and developed African states lost
their stability and became fragmented by internal and external conflicts that still affect the
continent today. Surely, the current economic and social problems that plague contemporary
Africa have their roots in the Atlantic trade. The unprecedented violence among African
societies, ethnic groups and states, and the subversion of social and gender roles which resulted
from such anarchy would never have taken place had the Atlantic trade, followed by imperialism
and colonialism, not taken root in Africa. What therefore needs to be taken into account in the
study of the Atlantic slave trade is the force of these historical circumstances and not the socalled evil nature of the African
Afro-Brazilians

ETHNONYMS: Black Brazilians (archaic), Brazilian Negroes, Negro Brazilians, Pardos, Prtos

Identification
Afro-Brazilians did not receive the kind of attention devoted to African Americans of the United
States in the scholarly and popular literature until the 1970s. To the extent that they were
discussed, they were viewed as part and parcel of Brazil's exceptional race-relations patterns, in
which flexibility in racial categorization and definition, linked to a history of the absence of
legally mandated or sanctioned racial discrimination in the postabolition period, obviated the
need for Black protest and other forms of activity geared to the gaining of civil rights. Since
then, this roseate rendition of the Afro-Brazilian situation has been steadily challenged by both
Brazilians and foreigner observers, controverting the impression that the specific historical,
cultural, sociological, and politicoeconomic universe in which Afro-Brazilians have lived and
continue to live remotely resembles a privileged environment in terms of race relations. These
recent discussions offer insights into race relations, racial prejudice, and racial discrimination of
another kind than that found elsewhere. Briefly put, neither history nor culture in themselves
have proven sufficient to legitimize a case for a unique immunity to racism in Brazil.
Furthermore, race mixture or multiracialness do not imply an absence of racial ranking, racial
preference, or outright discrimination.
If there is agreement on the above issues, the question of the definition of "Afro-Brazilian"
remains debatable. By the late 1970s, the term "Afro-Brazilian" rather than "Black Brazilian"
appeared to be increasingly favored, especially by younger and politically active Blacks. The
choice of "Afro"meant to emphasize ancestry rather than the traditional Brazilian focus on
color (in 1980 non-Whites described themselves to the census takers in an array of more than
100 shades)became equivalent to a political statement. Any description that lays the remotest
claim to accuracy must factor race, class, and gender into the categorization. It is in this factoring
that Afro-Brazilians come to manifest the contradictions of the society at large (see
"Sociopolitical Organization").
It is still not entirely clear how extensive the Afro-Brazilian population is within the national
population of more than 150 million. Within the census categories"White," "Brown," "Black,"
and "Yellow"Afro-Brazilians can be categorized or identify themselves as both "Black" and
"Brown." That being the case, it is difficult to proclaim with any degree of certainty the size of
the Afro-Brazilian poulation. Furthermore, there are regional differences in the concentration of
Afro-Brazilians. It is estimated that, of the 2.5 million people living in the metropolitan area of
the northeastern seaport of Salvador, the capital of the state of Bahia, 80% are either Prto
(Black) or Pardo (Brown). There are sizable numbers in Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo, but AfroBrazilians reside in less dense concentrations throughout the national territory. It is important to
provide a cautionary note with regard to what has become an increasingly common statement in
discussing Brazil and Afro-Brazilians within the global context of the Black world: that Brazil
has the largest Black population of any nation except the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Although
this statement makes for good symbolism, it is by no means clear what it actually reflects. If

there is no agreement about what constitutes blackness, the claim that Brazil has the secondlargest Black population becomes meaningless.
The situation is rendered more problematic by conflating Afro-Brazilian history and culture with
the present-day status of Afro-Brazilians and their institutions. A closer look reveals several
contradictory tendencies. There is, for example, absolutely no doubt about the presence, and an
impressive one at that, of Africa-derived religious and cultural traditions in Brazil that have
become Afro-Brazilianized. Whereas these institutions were the targets of official condemnation
and persecution during the nineteenth century and a large part of the twentieth, they have
undergone a process of nationalization in which the dominant society and its cultural institutions
have extended legitimacy to the formerly marginalized and persecuted Afro-Brazilian
manifestations. Nevertheless, cultural integration has not translated into a commensurate political
presence. As part of a national union that views itself as one people with a common destinyand
does not brook threats to this unityAfro-Brazilians are in the ambiguous position of asserting
their nationality and striving to maintain their specificity without becoming perceived as
antinational.
In a real sense, there is no Afro-Brazilian space that is separate from Brazilian national space.
There is no equivalent of the Black church in the United States; no historically Black institutions
such as colleges, hospitals, and funeral homes; and no Black residential areas within cities. It is
axiomatic that Afro-Brazilians are found among the major religious groups in the country
Catholics and mainstream Protestants (with long histories in Brazil), Pentecostalists (of more
recent provenance; they began evangelizing in Brazil in the mid-1960s, and continued their
activities with increasing crescendo throughout the 1970s and 1980s), and, of course, the major
Afro-Brazilian religions of Candombl, Macumba, and Umbanda (see "Religion and Expressive
Culture").
In view of the sheer size of Brazil, the cultural and linguistic differences among its regions,
although they do not negate nationally shared commonalities, nonetheless serve as a warning
against gross generalizations. It is therefore useless to posit a "typical" Afro-Brazilian whose
physical features and behavioral patterns can be considered emblematic of all Afro-Brazilians.
Variant regional historical experiences are manifested in differences in music, folklore, religion,
and patterns of speech. Such differences account for the diverse responses of specific AfroBrazilian populations to sociocultural and political movements between the 1920s and 1930s and
from the 1970s into the 1990s. A major characteristic of Afro-Brazilian culture has been its
ability to adapt or transform itself, Brazilianizing itself without losing its identity in the process.

History and Cultural Relations

There is a rich history of the arrival of African slaves from different religious backgrounds (e.g.,
Yoruba, Fon, Ewe [Gege], Hausa, Angdon), beginning in the sixteenth century; of African
adaptations and resistance to slavery; of Brazil-born individuals of African ancestry; and of
cooperation and conflicts between Brazilian-born Africans and newly arrived slaves. New
importations of slaves continued into the nineteenth century, particularly between 1807 and

1835. Contributing to the discontents of the newcomers was the disdain other slaves exhibited
toward them because of their inability to speak Portuguese, the tribal and ethnic markings on
their faces, and their non-European religionsfor example, some of the Yorubas were Muslims.
Newly imported Yorubas organized the Revolt of the Males (the term "Male" is believed to
derive from "I-male"the followers of the Imam) in 1835. Despite this and other acts of
resistance, abolition did not occur until 13 May 1888.
Although there has been a tendency to focus on slaves of Yoruba (western Nigerian) origin,
especially because of the preeminence of Yoruba religious traditions in Brazil, African slaves
came from a much wider geographical area, stretching from the Guinea coast to present-day
Angola, Mozambique, and Zaire. Increasing attention is being paid to Bantu influences in Brazil,
especially in the area surrounding Rio de Janeiro and in the state of Minas Gerais, a movement
away from Yorubacentrism, under the sway of which Yoruba traditions were studied to the
exclusion of those of other continental African groups that made major contributions to the
formation of Afro-Brazilian culture.

Sociopolitical Organization
Afro-Brazilian forms of religion, music, and dance have all been summoned in the service of
resisting the hegemonic tentacles of the Brazilian state and society, both in the past and in the
present. If in the period before abolition (both colonial and postcolonial), Afro-Brazilian
religious brotherhoods (cofradas ) affiliated with the Catholic church and religio-civic
organizations devoted themselves to helping manumit slaves, providing a form of social-welfare
service to widows and dependents, and organizing religious and cultural celebrations showing
elements of both Brazil and Africa, in the postabolition period they organized civic groupings
and even a political party.
Yet there has not been and there does not now exist an autonomous Afro-Brazilian universe
within which Afro-Brazilians have the luxury of conducting their affairs. In fact, it is clear that,
since the early 1900s, whatever sociocultural and political movements have been organized and
patronized by Afro-Brazilians have been reflections of the general socioeconomic and political
developments within Brazil at large. Syndicalists and frustrated young army officers were among
those who engaged in intense political activity in the first half of the 1910s and the second half of
the 1920s. The Frente Negra Brasileira, which some saw as having fascist tendencies, registered
as a political party on 16 September 1931. The immediate inference to be drawn is that to the
extent that the national political climate is relatively open and that a politically and culturally
entitled citizenry is able to participate in issues affecting state and society, there is greater
likelihood that Afro-Brazilians can act visibly than in periods when the political system becomes
closed to such participation, as was most recently demonstrated by the period of authoritarian
governance of a civilian-military nature between 1964 and 1985. What is illustrative about such
exclusionary periods is the breaches that develop, providing examples of the contradictions in
Brazilian political life. An earlier version of such exclusion from participation was the period
between 1937 and 1945 under Getlio Vargas. The "new state" (i.e., the authoritariancorporativist regime) prohibited all political activity it did not sponsor.

In 1944 Abdias do Nascimento founded the Black Experimental Theatre in Rio de Janeiro, which
was then Brazil's capital. It was an effort to bring those who attended to political consciousness
and show the importance of Afro-Brazilian life. (For the theater's first production, do Nascimento
sought a potent Afro-Brazilian playwright; failing in his search, he instead staged Eugene
O'Neill's Emperor Jones. By 1968 the theater was more or less defunct, although friends of do
Nascimento went through the motions of keeping it going. Do Nascimento, after teaching for
eleven years at the State University of New York at Buffalo, became a congressman in Rio and,
subsequently, Secretary of State in charge of Black issues.
By the mid-1970s it was obvious that the regime could not continue as it had been. In 1974
President Ernesto Geisel introduced the concept of political decompression, whereby tentative
attempts were made to create avenues for political expression, and the climate began to shift. In
1978, during the period of military governance with civilian collaboration, the Movimento Negro
Unificado contra Discriminacao Racial (MNU; Unified Movement against Racial
Discrimination) was launched in Sao Paulo at the same time other groups, such as automobilefactory workers, were forming community-based units within the Catholic church.
Afro-Brazilian women sociocultural and political activists have argued in no uncertain terms
that, just because Afro-Brazilians as a group have been and continue to be victims of racial
discrimination does not necessarily mean that Afro-Brazilian men are any less predisposed to
discriminate against Afro-Brazilian women. The latter are thus doubly disadvantaged in a society
that has historically given precedence to males and continues to do so.
By the same token, Afro-Brazilians are not impressed by any discourse that argues that the
realities of a machista society and the commonality of accumulated disadvantages visited on all
women because of their gender automatically occasions a sisterly solidarity. The women's
movement in Brazil, on account of its origins, membership, and the fact that it does not exist in a
universe separate from Brazilian society, has reproduced some of the same racially
discriminatory practices against Afro-Brazilian women. Following this line of discussion, it has
also been argued that to assume that the labor movement or progressive movements per se have
resolved basic contradictions and confusions about race and the position of Afro-Brazilians
within Brazilian society is at best naive.
Beginning in the 1980s, Afro-Brazilians made certain symbolic gains on the national political
scene. In the state government of Rio de Janeiro there were, between 1982 and 1986, three AfroBrazilian secretaries of state, including the first Afro-Brazilian woman to hold such a position.
The head of the military police and his deputy are also Afro-Brazilians. In 1991 three state
governors, two of whom readily identified themselves as Afro-Brazilian and a third who could be
characterized as having reached self-definition as Afro-Brazilian reluctantly or by default, were
elected. Another noteworthy political event was Benedita ("Ben") da Silva's 1992 electoral
campaign for the mayoralty of Rio, which failed by a narrow margin. She combines the activism
born of living in a favela (slum) and being a member of the Pentecostal church with membership
in the Workers party, under the banner of which she serves as a deputy in the Federal Chamber of

Deputies. It bears emphasizing that some of these political gains have been made in places with
minuscule Afro-Brazilian populations, as in the election of Governor Alceu Collares in the
southernmost state of Rio Grande do Sul.
The contrast with Salvador, Bahia, could not be more dramatic. The one Afro-Brazilian mayor of
the city,' Edivaldo Brito, was appointed to the post in 1980, during the period of authoritarian
rule. The fact that Afro-Brazilians are the majority in Bahia has not resulted in the election of
Afro-Brazilian mayors or representatives to the Federal Chamber of Deputies. The salient point
is that impressive institutions derived from Africa and developed by Afro-Brazilians in areas
where Afro-Brazilians are the majority have not automatically produced Afro-Brazilian elected
officials or access to political power in a clientelistic polity that has not veered from traditional
patronage distribution. Until the mid-1970s Salvador could not be ranked with Sao Paulo or Rio,
where Afro-Brazilian political activities have been more prominent.
To the extent that it has become more legitimate (which is not to be confused with fully
legitimate) to discuss Brazilian race relations as part of global race relationsand that inserting
Brazil into this framework provides no guarantee of a privileged position for Brazil as the one
place in the world where racial discrimination and racism have not been state policy, coded in the
law, rendering inappropriate the contemplation of concrete measures to ameliorate or abolish its
consequencesthere is some hope for a greater appreciation of the Afro-Brazilian predicament.
Racial discrimination and racism do not have to be legally codified or systematic, formal, and
frequent to be effective or to prevent those who see themselves as its intermittent or perennial
victims from articulating the need for redress. Despite this, Afro-Brazilians have resisted
customary and conventionalized forms of individual and institutional racism through
straightforward political, as well as more subtle cultural and religious, activities. The state of race
relations within Brazil is the real test of idealized notions of nationality; daily realities subvert
such notions.

Religion and Expressive Culture

There is no gainsaying the fact that all Brazilians now pay tribute to Afro-Brazilian cultural,
religious, and artistic contributions to Brazil. Many Brazilians, irrespective of race, color, or
class, partake of Afro-Brazilian culture.
Umbanda began to appear in the first decades of the twentieth century, at a time of rapid
industrialization, internal migration, and urbanization. It was depicted as quintessentially
Brazilian, syncretic, functionalist at its core, and providing space for upwardly mobile
individuals by the 1970s. Some social scientists questioned this idealized picture and saw
Umbanda more as a contested space in which members of the middle-class elite intervened to
clean up or "whiten" the Black, more proletarian image of Umbanda, thus distancing it from its
African and Afro-Brazilian roots.
Candombl, as considered by both followers and observers, is the most Orthodox of AfroBrazilian religions, with roots going back to slave life in Brazil. The term "Candombl" refers to

both the religion qua religion as well as to the ceremonies and celebrations that draw participants
who might not be full members of the terreiro, which is both the space in which religious
activities are conducted and the house in which the resident medo santo (if female) or pardo
santo (if male) perfoms ceremonies, engages in divination, and supervises those who are to be
initiated. Especially in Bahia, such practitioners trace their history to West Africa.
The origins of Candombl are linked to specific ethnic groups, or nations, as they became
known in Brazil. Nations came from different regions in Africa. The introduction of Catholic
symbols, such as altars, into terreiros is evidence of the adaptations made by Afro-Brazilians to
the dominant religious traditions of colonial and postcolonial Brazil.
What is Candombl in Bahia becomes Macumba in Rio de Janeiro. Macumba in Rio is
considered to be less orthodox than the older Candombl terreiros in Bahia, just as even in
Bahia, newer, less prestigious terreiros, which are more likely to draw upon a wider circle of
influences, including Amerindian traditions and spiritist (European-derived) ones. In regard to
the latter, the ideas of the French writer Allan Cardeac began permeating Brazilian spiritism at
the beginning of the twentieth century.
Another notable aspect of Afro-Brazilian religious traditions and their diffusion into the broader
society is the fact that such influences have become transnational. There are Afro-Brazilianderived religious traditions in Argentina, for example.
The musical styles and personalities of three of the best-known Afro-Brazilian musicians and
pop idolsGilberto Gil, from the northeastern state of Bahia; Milton Nascimento, from Minas
Gerais; and Martinho da Vila, from Rio de Janeiroexemplify the spectrum of regional
differences. The exuberance of Gil; the cooler, quasi-religious style of Nascimento; and the
conversational style of da Vila reflect variously their Bahian, Mineiro, and Carioca (i.e.,
characteristic of Rio) contexts.
Gil and da Vila, who have visited Africa, have directly connected to continental African themes
in their songs. Nascimento's composition "Missa dos Quilombos," derives its liturgical text from
Brazilian liberation theologians. The title of the mass comes from the name given to
communities of fugitive slaves in colonial Brazil. da Vila has organized Kizomba festivals,
which have brought performers from continental Africa together with their Afro-Brazilian
counterparts.
There is perhaps no Brazilian who is better known to the world than Pel (Edson Arantes do
Nascimento), the former soccer player. By his very presence, Pel is a demonstration of both the
possibilities and limitations of the Brazilian model of individual mobility. The fact that Pel
"made it" is sometimes presented as proof of limitless possibilities; this viewpoint fails to
recognize the mathematical improbability of reproducing hundreds, or even scores, of Pels
among Afro-Brazilian youth. Since, according to the model, a condition of success is the

avoidance of any controversy that would call it into question, Pel has not readily taken public
stances on the predicament of Afro-Brazilians.
Not unlike other Blacks in the Americas, Afro-Brazilians have utilized opportunities presented
by the worlds of sport and entertainment to mediate (albeit on an individual rather than on a
group basis) the difficulties of being Blackthat is, being disadvantaged in education, the
professions, housing, and socioeconomic mobility.

Transitional justice
The United Nations has a long history of assisting societies devastated by conflict or emerging
from repressive rule to re-establish the rule of law and come to terms with large-scale human
rights violations. For the UN system, transitional justice is the full range of processes and
mechanisms associated with a societys attempt to come to terms with a legacy of large-scale
past abuses, in order to ensure accountability, serve justice and achieve reconciliation. It consists
of both judicial and non-judicial processes and mechanisms, including prosecution initiatives,
facilitating initiatives in respect of the right to truth, delivering reparations, institutional reform
and national consultations. Whatever combination is chosen must be in conformity with
international legal standards and obligations.
The UN has a long-standing policy of opposing peace agreements that include amnesties for
genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, gross violations of human rights, or serious
violations of international humanitarian law. The UN will neither establish nor provide assistance
to any tribunal that allows for capital punishment.
Each transitional justice programme is unique and implemented in a specific societal context,
often marked by broken institutions, exhausted resources, diminished security, and a distressed
and divided population. The careful consideration of the particular transitional justice needs of a
country may include assessing factors such as the root causes of the underlying conflict,
involving related violations of all rights, including civil, political, economic, social and cultural
rights, the identification of patterns of discrimination and vulnerable groups, such as minorities,
women, and children, and the condition of the countrys justice and security sectors. To enhance
the sustainability and relevance of transitional justice processes, these should be carried out,
where feasible, by local and national actors. In this regard, international assistance has to
concentrate on development of national capacity to initiate and lead the process. Disarmament,
demobilization, and reintegration (DDR) initiatives should be coordinated with transitional
justice processes and mechanisms in a positively reinforcing manner.
In line with the Charter, the UN supports accountability, justice and reconciliation at all
times. The question for the UN is never whether to pursue these but rather when and how. The
nature and timing of such measures should be framed first of all in the context of international
legal obligations and taking due account of the national context and the views of the national

stakeholders, particularly victims. In situations in which national conditions do not allow for or
limit effectiveness of transitional justice measures, the UN supports activities that encourage and
lay foundation for effective mechanisms and processes.

Transitional justice programmes can involve truth-seeking processes that map patterns of past
violence, and unearth the causes and consequences of such destructive events; prosecution
initiatives that ensure a fair trial of those accused of committing crimes, including serious
violations of international humanitarian law and crimes involving human rights violations;
reparations programmes that provide a range of material and symbolic benefits to victims; and
institutional reform that includes vetting the public service to remove from office those public
employees personally responsible for gross violations of human rights. National consultations are
a critical element as successful transitional justice programmes necessitate meaningful public
participation, particularly of victims. These efforts are linked to and should be coordinated with
broader assistance aimed at strengthening the overall rule of law in the country.

The UN promotes the compliance of transitional justice processes and mechanisms with
international norms and standards, including those related to marginalized groups, such as
women and children. It further encourages a comprehensive approach integrating an appropriate
combination of transitional justice processes and mechanisms in national strategies. UN efforts
seek to comprehensively address the root causes of conflicts and the related violations of all
rights in an integrated and interdependent manner, so as to achieve the broader objectives of
societal transformation and prevention of further conflict.

The UN provides support to transitional justice processes and mechanisms that involves
developing standards and best practices, assisting in the design and implementation of
transitional justice mechanisms, providing technical, material and financial support, and ensuring
that human rights and transitional justice considerations are reflected in peace agreements.

Affirmative action in Brazil

Slavery's legacy
TO SUM up recent research predicting a mixed-race future for humanity, biologist Stephen
Stearns of Yale University turns to an already intermingled nation. In a few centuries, he says, we
will all "look like Brazilians". Brazil shares with the United States a population built from
European immigrants, their African slaves and the remnants of the Amerindian population they
displaced. But with many more free blacks during the era of slavery, no "Jim Crow" laws or

segregation after it ended in 1888 and no taboo on interracial romance, colour in Brazil became
not a binary variable but a spectrum.
Even so, it still codes for health, wealth and status. Light-skinned women strut So Paulo's
upmarket shopping malls in designer clothes; dark-skinned maids in uniform walk behind with
the bags and babies. Black and mixed-race Brazilians earn three-fifths as much as white ones.
They are twice as likely to be illiterate or in prison, and less than half as likely to go to
university. They die six years youngerand the cause of death is more than twice as likely to be
murder.
Such stark racial inequality is actually an improvement on the recent past (except for the gap
between homicide rates, which has grown with the spread of crack cocaine). A strong jobs
market, better-targeted government spending and the universalisation of primary schooling have
brought gains to poor Brazilians, whatever their colour. Even so, Brazil's government is turning
to affirmative-action programmes to hurry change alongjust as the United States considers
abandoning them.
During the past decade several public universities have introduced racial preferences piecemeal.
Last April the supreme court decided that they did not contravene constitutional equal-rights
provisionswhich was all that the government had been waiting for. In August it passed a law
mandating quotas for entry to all of the country's 59 federal universities and 38 federal technical
schools. The first cotistas, as beneficiaries are known, started their courses this year.
By 2016 half of all places in federal institutions will be reserved for state-schooled applicants. Of
these, half must go to students from families with incomes below 1017 reais ($503) a month per
persona cut-off that is much higher than the Brazilian average. Each must allocate quota places
to black, mixed-race and Amerindian students in proportion to their weight in the local
population (80% in Bahia, a state in Brazil's north-east; 16% in Santa Catarina in the country's
south). Some states are considering similar rules for their own universities.
Brazil does not require private universities to take race into account. Nor does it require private
companies to do so when hiring. A few states have racial quotas when hiring civil servants, and
there is talk of something similar at the federal level. But the real action, for now, is in public
universities.
Going to university in Brazil is not a mass experience, as in the United States. And only a quarter
of places are in public institutions. Other government education programmes, such as crechebuilding in poor neighbourhoods, better literacy training for teachers and subsidies for poor
students who attend private universities, will improve the lives of many more black Brazilians
than the quota programme. But public universities are more prestigiousand barred from
charging fees by the constitution. That their places have long gone disproportionately to the 12%
of Brazilians who are privately educated, most of them rich and white, is hard to swallow.

The supreme court decided that quotas were an acceptable weapon in the fight against the legacy
of slavery. That view is now mainstream in Brazil. Just one congressman voted against the new
law, and a recent opinion poll found nearly two-thirds of Brazilians supported racial preferences
for university admissions (though even more were keen on reserving places for the stateschooled and poor with no regard for colour). But even supporters worry that by encouraging
Brazilians to choose sharp-edged racial identities, quotas will create tensions where none existed
before.
Brazilians' notions of race are indeed changing, but only partly because of quotas, and more
subtly than the doom-mongers fear. The unthinking prejudice expressed in common phrases such
as "good appearance" (meaning pale-skinned) and "good hair" (not frizzy) means many lightskinned Brazilians have long preferred to think of themselves as "white", whatever their
parentage. But between 2000 and 2010 the self-described "white" population fell by six
percentage points, while the "black" and "mixed-race" groups grew.
Researchers think a growing pride in African ancestry is behind much of the shift. But quotas
also seem to affect how people label themselves. Andrew Francis of Emory University and Maria
Tannuri-Pianto of the University of Braslia (UnB) found that some light-skinned mixed-race
applicants to UnB, which started using racial preferences in 2004, thought of themselves as white
but described themselves as mixed-race to increase their chances of getting in. Some later
reverted to a white identity. But for quite a few the change was permanent.
Opponents of quotas worry that ill-prepared students will gain entry to tough courses and then
struggle to cope. Such fears make sense: any sort of affirmative action will bring more publicly
educated youngsters into universityand in Brazil, the difference between what they and their
privately educated counterparts have learnt is vast. In global education studies, 15-year-olds in
Brazil's private schools come slightly above the rich-world average for all pupils. Most of those
in its public schools are functionally illiterate and innumerate.
Surprisingly, though, neither the State University of Rio de Janeiro nor UnBthe two earliest to
adopt quotashave found that cotistas did much worse than their classmates. For some highly
competitive courses, such as medicine at UnB, the two groups had quite similar entrance grades.
And for some of the least selective courses, the overall standard was not high. But even when the
starting gaps were wide, most cotistas had nearly caught up by graduation.
One possible explanation is that cotistas with a given entrance grade were in fact more able than
non-cotistas, since the latter were more likely to have had intensive coaching in test techniques.
Another is that cotistas worked harder: both universities found they skipped fewer classes and
were less likely to drop out. "Cotistas take their studies much more seriously than those who
thought a university place was theirs by right," says Luiza Bairros, the state secretary for policies
to promote racial equality. "They know how important this opportunity is, not just for them but
for their whole family."

Brazil's racial preferences differ from America's in that they are narrowly aimed at preventing a
tiny elite from scooping a grossly disproportionate share of taxpayer-funded university places.
Privately-educated (ie, well-off) blacks do not get a leg-up in university admissions. But since
racial quotas are just starting in Brazil, it is too early to say what their effects will be, and
whether they will make race relations better or worse