Afro-Descendants in Argentina and Uruguay
A concentrated focus on Montevideo and Buenos Aires
Role of the Black Press and Afro-Descendant Organizations in the Creation of Afro-Uruguayan Identity and Resistance
In African Roots/American Cultures, Chirimini states that, āin spite of their reduced absolute and relative numbers due to wartime losses and demographically overwhelming European immigration, as well as their limited educational attainment and scarce resources, Afro-Uruguayans engaged in community-based institution building and cultural productionā at the end of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (261).
The most public form of cultural production was the black press, whose target audience was Afro-Uruguayan readers. Between 1870 and 1950, Afro-Uruguayans produced at least twenty-five newspapers (Andrews 5). This was quite a feat considering the size of the Afro-Uruguayan population versus the Afro-descendant populations in Brazil (four hundred times larger than Uruguayās) and Cuba (twenty times larger), which produced forty to fifty newspapers and fourteen publications respectively (5). Richard Jackson in Black Writers in Latin America says:
āThe black press in Uruguay, as elsewhere, hoped that by reporting on the accomplishments and achievements of blacks locally and internationally they would raise the level of black awareness in the country and get blacks to organize in concerted efforts to bring about improvements in their lot through pressure group action, particularly in their fight against social injustice, racial stereotypes, and prejudice. The black press believed that by serving a medium for black literary expression the intellectual and cultural level of the black community would improve. Character improvement was a prime concern to the black press, and for this reason much of their publication was directed toward the moral development of the black youthā (qtd. in Adams 159-60).
According to Appiah, ādue to the unstable nature of political institutions, long periods of dictatorship in many countries throughout the region, and much ambivalence (even to this day) about color consciousness, black organizations and their journals were never long-livedā (Appiah 2005 Vol. 438). This made it all the more remarkable that Nuestra Raza (Our Race), the most well-known Afro-Uruguayan publication, which was originally founded and published in 1917, however only ran successfully from 1933 to 1948, was the longest-running black publication in Uruguay (Young 33). The Afro-Uruguayan publications were fighting an uphill battle from the start, as explained by Andrews:
āNuestra Raza and the other black newspapers effectively contradicted two central tenets of Uruguayās national mythology: that the country had no significant black population and that those Afro-Uruguayans who might exist were completely integrated into national life and felt no sense of difference from their white compatriots. By chronicling the communityās numerous social and civic events, and the individuals and organizations who oversaw these events, the Afro-Uruguayan papers made clear not only that the country had a black population but that its members felt themselves to be marginalized in various ways from full participation in national life. Reports of discrimination and, occasionally, outright segregation revealed both the limits of Uruguayan democracy and, at the same time, Afro-Uruguayan activistsā determination to make real the nationās promises of equality for allā (5-6).
One of the founders of Nuestra Raza was Maria Esperanza Barrios (please see our section about Afro-Uruguayan Women for more information on her impact on Nuestra Raza), however she died before the publication succeeded. Many of the editors and contributors for Nuestra Raza were well-known in their own right, such as Mariaās brother, Pilar Barrios, one of the original founders and the first Afro-Uruguayan to have his work published in book form.
Those involved with Nuestra Raza were also active on the political front, as many helped coordinate the first black political party in Uruguay, Partido Autóctono Negro (PAN, Native Black Party) in 1936 (Andrews 103). One of the main focuses of the PAN was focusing on improving racial discrimination in state employment, believing the other political parties were unable to understand and adequately address the struggles of Afro-Uruguayans (104). Despite all of the work put into running campaigns during elections and promoting the platforms of the PAN, by 1944 it had dissolved due to poor voter turnout and lack of public support (104-5).
History of Afro-Descendants in Montevideo
History of Afro-Descendants in Uruguay
What Is Controversial about the History of Afro-Descendants in Uruguay?
Why Is this Section Concentrated on Montevideo?
How Did Africans Come to Arrive in Uruguay?
Afro-Descendant Participation in Uruguayan Military
Abolition of Slavery in Uruguay
How Are Races Defined in Uruguay?
The Active Participation of Afro-Descendant Women in the Advancement of Afro-Uruguayans
Resistance and Displacement of Afro-Uruguayans During the Dictatorship of 1973-1985
Commemoration and Stereotyping Afro-Uruguayan Women in Uruguay Today
Moving Forward, Will the Afro-Descendent Community in Uruguay Receive More Equality and Recognition?

Nuestra Raza magazine;
Owner: Gascue;
Source:https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ANuestra_Raza.jpg
According to Lewis in Afro-Uruguayan Literature, Afro-Uruguayan periodicals have historically taken one of two basic approaches to their societal concerns (Lewis 32). Some, like Nuestra Raza, āassumed a more aggressive posture to gain equality while others were less forcefulā (32). An example of the latter would be Revista Uruguay, the publication for the Asociación Cultural y Social Uruguay (ACSU), one of the longest-lasting black social clubs in all of Latin America, which is still active today under the name Asociación Cultural y Social Uruguay Negro (ACSUN). Founded in 1941 at the beginning of the āgolden yearsā with Uruguayās expanding economy, and thus higher wages of Afro-Uruguayans who could support the society, ACSU represented Afro-Uruguayans seeking to become part of middle class society (Andrews 106). The founding members of ACSU ābelieved that they knew how to achieve that goal: through education, hard work, good manners, and unimpeachable moralityā (106). The ACSUās monthly publication, Revista Uruguay sought to impress the proper and formal rules of society on the Afro-Uruguayan population, from discussing proper behavior at dances to reporting discrimination to the authorities (106-7).
The goals and published works of Revista Uruguay differed greatly from those of Nuestra Raza. The editors of Revista Uruguay believed the problems and prejudices suffered by the Afro-Uruguayan population had been brought upon them by themselves, and made it clear that they did not believe racism was an issue in Uruguay, whereas Nuestra Raza focused greatly on the discrimination of Afro-Uruguayans (106-7). The first president of ACSU, SuĆ”rez PeƱa, stated in his 1956 interview with Marcha that āfeelings of racial difference were widespread among white Uruguayans. Labeling these feelings as ādiscrimination,ā he described them as ānatural,ā and not a problem for most Afro-Uruguayansā¦He drew a line, however, between ādiscriminationā and āsegregation,āā which as mentioned previously in our Racial Inequality section, was what the ACSU wanted to abolish (109).
During the dictatorship of the 1970s and 80s, many civil society organizations were shut down, however the ACSU managed to not only stay active, but also received a new building for their headquarters in 1974 (145). In the early 1980s, the ACSU and members of the Franciscan religious order formed a relationship. The friars were developing projects in Montevideoās working class neighborhoods and believed the ACSUās history of working with the Afro-Uruguayan community would make a good investment, even donating a house for a permanent ACSU headquarters in 1985 (145). According to Andrews, āthis infusion of funding and property intensified internal conflicts that had been simmering with ACSU for some timeā (145). The age disparity amongst the members of the ACSU meant there was also a great divide in education levels, as the older founding members may not have completed elementary school, while younger members had much higher levels of education (145). The younger members were unhappy with where the new funds were going within the organization, and by the lack of help the ACSU was offering to the poor. The older members in the organization āresponded with angry orders to the young dissidents to keep their mouths shut and obey their eldersā (146).
In 1988, after two years of in-fighting, a new organization, Mundo Afro, was formed by Romero RodrĆguez and Beatriz RamĆrez, who shared a more āinternationalā perspective on the issues of Afro-Uruguayans, and were joined by a group of other unhappy members who formally withdrew from the ACSU (146). It was decided that Mundo Afro would function as an umbrella for other Afro-Uruguayan organizations with more specific focuses, including a group for women started by RamĆrez called Grupo de Apoyo a la Mujer Afrouruguaya (GAMA, Support Group for Afro-Uruguayan Women) (146-7). When the new Mundo Afro members left the ACSU, so too did the funding of the Franciscans and others who had funded and awarded grants to the ACSU, claiming the ACSU had not fulfilled the intended purposes of the money (147). In the 1990s, a lawsuit was brought against the ACSU over the use of a grant, and it lost its legal incorporation, leading it to later be reincorporated under its current name, Asociación Cultural y Social Uruguay Negro (ACSUN) (147).
Mundo Afro meanwhile, became, according to Andrews, āby far the most visible and influential of the Afro-Uruguayan social and civic groupsā in the 1990s and early 2000s (148). There were three main issues Mundo Afro believed plagued the Afro-Uruguayan community: ā(1) poverty; (2) the āinvisibilizationā of black people in Uruguay, where society refused to acknowledge black contributions to national history and culture; and (3) racial discrimination and prejudiceā (148). In Encyclopedia of Contemporary Latin American and Caribbean Cultures, DariĆ©n J. Davis states that Mundo Afro became āincreasingly militant in its demands, calling for official recognition and for education and employment opportunities free from discriminationā (Davis āBlack Movementsā).
In Montevideo in 1994, Mundo Afro welcomed Afro-descendants from across the Americas at āThe First Seminar on Racism and Xenophobiaā (Davis, āPan-Africanismā 1488). Uruguayans young and old were present at the conference, along with participants from all over the Americas (1488). According to Minority Rights Group in No Longer Invisible, the conference in Montevideo āsymbolized an important watershed in black consciousness within the region as delegates began to define, in words of the official agenda, a āProgram for the Development of Black Latin Americaāā (1489). There were five commissions at the conference in which ideas and resolutions were discussed. The commissions were: Education, Culture, and Communication; Women and Society; International Cooperation and Alternative Development; Political Strategies; and Population, Human Rights, Youth, and the Elderly (1489). For further information about the activities of each commission, and the outcomes of the the commissions at the conference, please see the information for No Longer Invisible in our Bibliography.
It should be noted that TomĆ”s Olivera Chirimini, a source we have used frequently throughout our research, was the cultural director of ACSUN, along with being a musician, artist, and researcher (Walker 30). Also please note that Dr. George Reid Andrews, one of the main sources we have used in our research, has relationships with both Chirimini and Romero RodrĆguez of Mundo Afro. As he explains in the Acknowledgements portion of Blackness in a White Nation, it was at the urging of RodrĆguez that he began his research on Afro-Uruguay, and his relationship with the Mundo Afro community is mentioned throughout the text.