By Vanessa Bauzá. Web-posted: 12:03 a.m. Apr. 30, 2000
MIAMI -- Listen. The whispers grow to a shout.
Cuban-Americans feel betrayed by the federal government, angry at alleged police brutality and fearful of a loss of power. Blacks are resentful that their grievances have been ignored for so long and feel they lack influence. Whites say "their" city has been usurped by immigrant
politicians with no respect for American law.
Miami is a city divided. Resentments long spoken only in hushed tones have been unleashed by the Elián González affair. Ethnic divisions are not new to this city, but few can remember a time when the wounds were so raw.
Arva Moore Park, a local historian who lived through the civil rights demonstrations of the 1960s and the 1980 riots in Liberty City, said she is stunned at the level of tension. "I have never seen anything in this community become quite so divisive as the Elián case," Moore
said. "It's like there's a giant hole in the middle of the city."
Faced with a potentially explosive situation, black, white and Cuban clergy called for understanding and unity at Saturday's massive rally in Little Havana. The Rev. Francisco Santana, a Catholic priest who served as the González family's spiritual adviser, prayed for racial harmony
and pointed to Cuban President Fidel Castro as the true culprit. "(What goes against the) different ethnicities in our beautiful Miami is the unjust system imposed on Cuba," he told an audience of thousands on Calle Ocho. "They threaten to destroy with hatred what we in South Florida
have built with love."
But many Anglos and blacks can't understand how Cubans can be so intense about events on an island 90 miles away. Many feel Cubans haven't invested enough emotional capital in their new country. "Part of the source of the resentment is that Cubans care only about the situation in Cuba,"
said Lisandro Perez, director of the Cuban Research Institute at Florida International University.
On Saturday, at a counterdemonstration in Cutler Ridge, thousands waved American flags to show their support of the U.S. government. "America, love it or leave it, comprende?" one sign read. Many in the crowd said they understood the pain of Cuban exiles, but felt they had
disrespected the law.
Any pretense of political correctness was cast aside at Thursday's City Hall meeting when Mayor Joe Carollo fired City Manager Donald Warshaw.
Georgia Ayres, a respected black community activist, yelled insults at the largely Cuban audience: "You all came here by boat!" Ayres shouted in the packed commission chamber. Cuban exiles booed her. She later referred to the city's Cuban power structure as "LIC" -- Latins
in charge.
The following day someone draped a banner in front of City Hall with the simple message, "Banana Republic," and dropped off a load of bananas in the parking lot.
These simmering resentments can be traced to the civil rights era, said Harvard professor Michael Jones-Correa, who has interviewed local leaders for an upcoming book on immigration and urban ethnic politics.
He said bitterness runs deep in Miami, where Cuban immigrants have made greater strides than the African-American community.
"Miami is unique in that the immigrant influx got power," Jones-Correa said. "What happens in Miami is that civil rights were beginning to pay off, but the people who were benefiting were the Cubans. African-Americans have never had a place at the table in Miami. There's a
sense that they have a backlog of grievances."
The May 1980 riots that shook Liberty City and left 18 people dead took place around the time of the Mariel boatlift, which brought thousands of Cuban refugees to Miami. Many suspect the riots were exacerbated by the perception among black Miamians that Cubans quickly inserted themselves into
the city's economy.
"After that spring, you saw the evaporation of good will and the sense of community. It all went up in smoke," said Marvin Dunn, a professor of psychology at Florida International University who has written on the history of blacks in Florida. "Any sense of community between
Hispanics and blacks that had been established was nearly destroyed."
Without interaction on the personal level, people know each other by stereotype only, said FIU's Perez. Many Cubans, for example, are heavily insulated in their enclaves of Little Havana and Hialeah, where one can live and die without speaking a word of English.
In other cities, Hispanics and blacks often form a united front as disenfranchised minorities. But not here, Perez said. Cubans make up 34 percent of Miami-Dade County's population and are the largest ethnic group in the city of Miami. Blacks make up 19 percent of the county.
Jerry Rushin, general manager at radio station WEDR 99 Jamz, said he has been flooded by calls and letters from African-American listeners who refer to Cuban-Americans as "arrogant."
He said many complain that elected officials represent only part of the population. "If this had been the average black (family's) door being kicked in, there would be no press, no outrage," Rushin said. "If Carollo is sincere, let me see some kind of passion from him the next
time something happens in a black neighborhood. The only saving grace is that maybe some good will come of this with some policy changes in the (Miami police) department."
One positive outcome may be a better understanding on the part of black and white Americans of the Cuban experience, said Paul George, a history professor at Miami-Dade Community College.
"I think a greater sensitivity may come out of this. Maybe we should try to understand the Cuban angst with Castro," he said. "The Cubans are asking America to understand where they're coming from."
Pedro Freyre, chairman of Facts About Cuban Exiles, said Miami-Dade residents, Cubans included, need to exhibit a little more tolerance. "Cuban-Americans need to learn this lesson, that not everyone will agree with us," he said. "It's just old Miami issues that have not been
resolved for many decades."
Staff Writers Luisa Yanez, Robert Nolin, Jonathan King and David Cázares contributed to this report.
Vanessa Bauzá can be reached at vbauza@sun-sentinel.com or 954-356-4977. |