The night was warm, and there was both tension and excitement in the air. Hundreds of police officers, military convoys, and snipers had replaced the wandering tourists and informal vendors that usually crowded the streets of Cartagena at night. Houses were packed with families and friends gathering around the television, waiting to hear the news from Colombia’s President Juan Manuel Santos and the then president of the United States, Barack Obama. The Colombian government had announced a few weeks earlier that during their official meeting in Cartagena on 15 April 2012, Obama would symbolically confer the communal land title to the people of San Basilio de Palenque. Although the communal land entitlement process had been mostly a national affair, the Obama administration had pressured the Colombian government for years to give more political attention to Afro-Colombian issues. Footnote 1 On this occasion, Obama’s participation in the titling ceremony was a strategic diplomatic move signaling the political support of the first American Black president to Afro-Colombian causes. This long-awaited land titling concluded years of negotiations, lobbying, and debate between Colombian public officials, academics, and Black activists. It was also a new beginning for the people of Palenque who had fought for land rights for many years.
“Today marks an important change for Afro-descendant communities … this land title is the start of a new Colombia,” declared Obama. Footnote 2 The crowd burst into cheers as people jumped from their seats to clap. In the background, behind Obama’s podium, young children waved Colombian flags as Sebastian Salgado, Palenque’s Footnote 3 community council legal representative, Footnote 4 approached the stage to receive the title and shake Obama’s hand. In the wake of this event, San Basilio de Palenque, a small Afro-descendant community located in the Colombian Caribbean region, was in the national public spotlight, but not for the first time. In 2005, the “cultural space” of San Basilio de Palenque had been declared a “Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Cultural Heritage,” and, in 2008, it had been included on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by the United Nation’s Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). Since the 2005 declaration, Palenque had received increasing attention from the media and from regional and national administrations eager to implement a series of programs to protect and promote the community’s cultural heritage. The symbolic conferral of the land deed in April 2012 rekindled long-standing debates about Afro-Colombians’ rights, culture, territory, and political representation. Footnote 5
In this article, I examine the different meanings that rights to land and culture hold for the Palenqueros Footnote 6 and Colombian bureaucrats in the context of Palenque’s heritage declaration and collective land titling. I trace the ways in which collective rights to land and culture in San Basilio enhance claims for individual prerogatives from two groups of Palenqueros and fuel these groups’ fight for public visibility and legitimacy. I follow the tensions and contradictions that exist between individual and collective rights claims in this town, noting how they operate simultaneously at various registers serving different political purposes. While communal rights are invoked to garner attention from the state, world leaders, and transnational organizations like UNESCO, individual rights, conceived locally as exclusive prerogatives, are used to mark hierarchical distinctions between community members themselves. My analysis shows that communal and individual rights claims are premised on their mutual existence and, yet, continuously undermine each other. Footnote 7 Collective and individual rights claims simultaneously create both a cohesive image of the community and a new form of inequality and hierarchy between its members. Footnote 8
In Palenque, the pursuit of ethnic rights—via a declaration of cultural heritage—and territorial rights—through collective land titling—is intimately connected to a couple of groups of Palenqueros (often at odds with each other) who have worked with national public officials, academics, and international bureaucrats for years attaining communal rights to culture and land. These two groups are political adversaries and, by and large, include the Palenqueros who control most of the political power in town. Locals, bureaucrats, and researchers working in Palenque acknowledge that these two groups have very different internal dynamics, regional alliances, and visions for Palenque’s future. Footnote 9 There are no official designations for these groups, but, informally, they are called mochileros, saqueros, or jakeros (I abstain from using these names and refer to these groups instead as the intellectual elite and the local political opposition, respectively). Most Palenqueros, including members of these two factions, are resistant to publicly naming who sides with whom. Despite this reluctance, during our interviews, most Palenqueros explicitly acknowledged the division and clearly stated their alliances, even if avoiding the use of specific names. Since 2009, the political tension between these two groups has only increased, and, today, most activities taking place in Palenque or involving Palenqueros reflect this growing internal divide.
Palenque’s intellectual elite, also described as the local cultural entrepreneurs, Footnote 10 comprises a group of locals and their families, who have long-lasting connections with government officials, academics, or political activists. Some of them spearheaded the heritage declaration—as well as the land-titling processes—lobbying for support with Colombian bureaucrats and UNESCO officials, gathering the required documentation, and writing—with no financial compensation—all of the documents required for the inscription and future management of San Basilio’s “cultural space.” Footnote 11 While a good portion of these individuals live outside Palenque, many own property or have extended family in town who they visit frequently. Like all other Palenqueros, the members of this elite are of African descent; though they share common ancestry and ethnicity with other locals, they enjoy a slightly more comfortable living standard, have higher levels of education, and are politically well connected. Many of them have created cultural organizations, manage non-governmental organizations (NGOs), teach in nearby universities, or conduct research about Palenque. For some, a considerable amount of their reputation and social capital is derived from their work on the heritage declaration process. Opinions about their power and roles in the town are divided, as some acknowledge their genuine interest and concern for Palenque, while others believe they have disproportionally benefited from their influence on heritage matters. Footnote 12 Today, they hold an ambivalent position, as some locals are suspicious about their work ethic, while others are grateful to them and benefit from the projects they manage. Footnote 13
The local political opposition is the other powerful group in town. By and large, it is composed of the Palenqueros who still live and work in town and have less connection than the elites to the national Black social movements. Many of these locals have been members of, or collaborated with, the community council led by Sebastian Salgado, and they have received support from those who do not side with the elites. They also are of African descent and identify as Palenqueros. Besides occupying roles of political leadership in town, many have their own traditional dance and music groups. In comparison to the intellectual elites, their influence is locally circumscribed, and members have varying degrees of formal education and policy expertise.
As Palenque’s heritage and territory have garnered political attention, members of the two rival groups feel they should be acknowledged for their work and that their efforts should grant them certain advantages in town. These advantages entail more than payment for their work; they include public recognition as well as greater political power, influence, and control over current and future projects taking place in Palenque. As individuals from both political factions see it, not all Palenqueros should benefit equally from the heritage declaration or the communal land titling, even if most locals have a shared race, ethnicity, history, or descent. Instead, they believe benefits should also be distributed according to the work invested in achieving the heritage declaration and the land titling in the first place. As such, the right to enjoy and benefit from communal culture and collective land is tied to a specific type of labor, one that is by and large performed by the powerful and well connected.
As a result, today in Palenque, the labor invested in safeguarding a shared heritage and territory justifies the socio-economic advancement of a few individuals. Since this labor has also provided public visibility, it continues to fuel the battle between the two local political factions for privileges and power. The heritage declaration and land titling have become not just victories for the community as a whole but also symbolic emblems of success for the opposing groups, who desperately seek public validation and political legitimacy. This has important implications for understanding the effects of the heritage and land policies affecting Afro-descendant populations in Colombia. Although these policies aim to broaden Afro-Colombian inclusion and guarantee equality, they also entrench pre-existing tensions and social inequality on the ground. Footnote 14
In the article that follows, I trace this counterintuitive situation where claims to collective rights enhance talk of individual prerogatives. I use the concept of rights in a broad sense to refer to legal, regulatory, or moral claims raised by Palenqueros and cultural bureaucrats and as they are understood by other researchers working on Afro-Colombian rights and political recognition. Footnote 15 I focus on the concept of rights, as I found this term to be ubiquitous in both heritage policy and Afro-descendant land laws as well as in my own conversations with powerful Palenqueros. I note, however, that rights have a multiplicity of meanings and refer not just to property but also to privilege, prerogatives, and power. Footnote 16
I begin by briefly presenting San Basilio de Palenque’s trajectory toward its heritage declaration and land titling. Then I give an overview of the constitutional reforms of 1991 in Colombia and the multicultural shift experienced in Latin America at the turn of the century. This discussion contextualizes the broader structures of opportunity that emerged at that moment, enabling the official demarcation of communal land and heritage in Palenque. In the following section, I turn to ethnographic material from San Basilio de Palenque, including interviews with community members, local leaders, and bureaucrats to demonstrate how the language of rights is invoked and what it entails for different claimants. This material shows that the assertion of collective rights operates within a landscape of unequal opportunities, which has enabled a paradoxical coexistence of two contradictory claims: one of communal cultural cohesion and ethnic affiliation and another of individual difference based on socio-political hierarchy. I conclude by questioning how a more nuanced examination of rights discourses in Palenque, one that intertwines with notions of labor, might contribute to understanding the multiple meanings of rights, not simply across time or space but also in relation to their strategic purpose and perceived socioeconomic leverage.
CULTURAL HERITAGE AND LAND RIGHTS
San Basilio de Palenque, a small Afro-descendant town located in northern Colombia, is widely regarded as the nation’s only officially recognized surviving settlement of maroon descendants. Footnote 17 Today, the town is inhabited by roughly 4,000–5,000 people, most of them of African descent. Palenque has an important history of scholarly research and political activism and, in a decade, has gone through the complex process of campaigning and receiving international heritage recognition as well as collective land entitlement. Although many believe that Palenque only became known after the 2005 UNESCO proclamation, in reality, a good number of academics and public officials have been well acquainted with Palenque and actively working with Palenqueros for decades, though far from the public spotlight. In addition, years before UNESCO’s proclamation, politically engaged local activists created grassroots organizations, ran for local public offices, and became active in regional politics.
As the only publicly recognized, self-proclaimed contemporary maroon-descendant town in Colombia, Palenque has long been an interesting place for academics. Historically, it is well known for its resistance against the Spanish colonizers and, in particular, for its successful peace treaty of 1713, which officially recognized Palenque as a free town. Since the early twentieth century, social scientists have studied everything from its Spanish-based creole language to its music, dances, social organization, political structure, and medicinal practices. Footnote 18 The research advanced by anthropologists, linguists, and historians became instrumental in Palenque’s eventual cultural heritage declaration. Indeed, the information about the town’s history and cultural practices gathered by these scholars constituted the core element of the heritage candidacy dossier and defined what was later known as Palenque’s “cultural space.” As defined by UNESCO, this “cultural space” encompassed music, oral traditions, language, as well as political, social, medicinal, and religious practices. Footnote 19 In the case of Palenque, it highlighted five elements: (1) funeral rituals, particularly the lumbalú, which involves an elaborate nine-day wake ceremony; (2) the Palenquero language, which is a unique creole of Spanish lexical basis with elements of Bantu; (3) social organization, specifically the kuagros, which operate as life-long solidarity networks formed between families and neighbors from similar age groups; (4) musical expressions, like bullerengue sentado, son de negro, and others based on African rhythms; and (5) traditional medicinal and healing practices. Footnote 20
In 2005, as a result of the combined efforts of local leaders, bureaucrats, and academics, these cultural elements were proclaimed by UNESCO to be a “Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Cultural Heritage.” The Masterpieces program was one of the first ever created by UNESCO to explicitly recognize non-material components of culture and encourage states to protect cultural diversity. Footnote 21 As this program closed in 2008, UNESCO replaced it with a system of representative and urgent safeguarding lists, which were included in the 2003 Convention for the Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage, following the model of the 1972 Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural Heritage and Natural Heritage. Footnote 22 The elements that were once proclaimed as masterpieces, such as Palenque’s “cultural space,” were automatically inscribed on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Footnote 23
Despite the early excitement among Palenqueros about the heritage declaration, many locals had shifted their political attention away from heritage issues and toward Palenque’s collective land entitlement at the time of my ethnographic fieldwork between 2009 and 2013. Following the lead of many Afro-descendant communities on the Pacific coast who had already secured communal land deeds, the Palenqueros were claiming their right to own their territory collectively. This claim was made possible after the 1991 constitutional reform, which included the new Transitory Article 55, recognizing the right to collective land ownership for some Afro-descendant communities. Footnote 24 The article also established mechanisms to protect these groups’ traditional agricultural practices, socioeconomic development, political rights, and cultural identity. Footnote 25 Following this article, Law 70 was enacted in 1993, Footnote 26 and, to this day, it still regulates collective land entitlement for Afro-Colombian groups. Footnote 27
Palenque received its collective land title in 2012, Footnote 28 but the process had been slow and plagued by bureaucratic delays and internal conflicts among the Palenqueros. In town, many were resistant to the land-titling process, and some thought that it was a trick by the government to take away their lands. Footnote 29 Conflicts between former community councils also slowed the process, as leaders debated whether to continue the legal battle for lands initiated by the previous group. As explained to me by current and former community council members, Footnote 30 the political animosity between the powerful and influential Palenqueros had much to do with the length of the process, and the frequent accusations of corruption and misinformation kept many Palenqueros confused and worried about what collective ownership might entail. Indeed, the importance given to securing the collective land title epitomized for years the political rift between the two main local factions, as these groups did not perceive with the same urgency the need to title their territory as communal property.
According to a former public official of the Colombian Institute of Rural Development (INCODER), Palenque’s decade-long land entitlement process was particularly complex. Footnote 31 In one of our interviews, the former public official explained that there had been several procedural mistakes with a previous collective land title, and the process had to start over again. As we read through the decree that regulates the entitlement procedure, he was quick to point out how long and cumbersome the process had been, demanding in-depth knowledge about the territory’s boundaries and the history of the land’s occupation as well as high-level coordination among community council members. In the end, Palenque’s land entitlement materialized almost two decades after Law 70’s enactment, just as political pressure was mounting with the upcoming visit of the president of the United States to Cartagena.
COLLECTIVE RIGHTS AND COLOMBIA’S MULTICULTURAL SHIFT
The constitutional reform of 1991 marked a watershed moment for Colombia’s political history in general and Afro-descendant rights in particular. In the years preceding the enactment of the new constitution and throughout the 1990s, Black organizations around the country began to change dramatically in terms of their strategic goals, organizational structures, administrative capacity, and political influence. As Tianna Paschel asserts, around this time blackness not only became a legitimate category of political struggle, but the Black movements themselves also “became increasingly incorporated into formal political institutions and state bureaucracies in unprecedented ways.” Footnote 32 Earlier claims against racism and discrimination were slowly and strategically replaced by claims for ethno-racial distinction.
As explained by Kiran Asher, the Proceso de Comunidades Negras (PCN), one of the most influential Black activist movements in the country, defined the Afro-Colombian movement in ethno-cultural terms, fighting for the right to be different from other Colombians and for the validation of Black identity. Footnote 33 In a process described by some as the ethnicization of blackness, Afro-descendant activists strategically decided to ethnicize the Black struggle, de-emphasizing the language of racial discrimination and focusing instead on the cultural specificities of Afro-Colombian groups. Footnote 34 Following the example of Indigenous communities who had successfully achieved political legitimacy and collective lands, Black activists appealed for a difference-based inclusion rather than a blanket demand for equality. This shift prompted the use of traditional knowledge, music, and rituals as a means to justify ethnic distinction. Footnote 35 It also emphasized the notion of Black groups as collectivities and a language of communally based rights.
For Palenque, the language of collective rights was instrumental in advancing claims for heritage recognition and land titling. For some, the collective discourse was tied to the political transformations of Black social movements, briefly outlined above, particularly for those associated with the PCN or working on ethno-educational programs in Palenque since the 1980s. For others, the collective discourse was less connected to the constitutional reforms of the early 1990s and more related to their own political trajectory in town and the recent heritage declaration. The notions of collectivity, collective rights claims, and governance, for that matter, vary between community members and are quite distinct between the two main local factions. Those Palenqueros educated outside town who nowadays live mostly in Cartagena (the intellectual elite) and those who live and work in Palenque today (the local political opposition) have different understandings of the boundaries between individualism and collectivity. However, the public policies, scholarly research, and many of the grassroots projects designed by bureaucrats, academics, and local activists still emphasize a language of communal ethnic difference and group-based cultural specificity. Both the heritage nomination and the collective land entitlement processes that were supported by the community relied heavily on a rhetoric of community-based rights, ethnic distinction, and cultural difference.
In terms of the laws and policies enacted between the 1990s and mid-2000s, there was an explicit acknowledgment that the language of collective rights would serve as a strategic political lever. The heritage recognition, for instance, is premised on a notion of collectivity and group identity. Although the formal UNESCO definition of intangible cultural heritage does mention individuals, there is a clear emphasis on communities and groups:
Intangible cultural heritage means the practices, representations, expressions, knowledge, skills—as well as the instruments, objects, artefacts and cultural spaces associated therewith—that communities, groups and, in some cases, individuals recognize as part of their cultural heritage. This intangible cultural heritage, transmitted from generation to generation, is constantly recreated by communities and groups in response to their environment, their interaction with nature and their history, and provides them with a sense of identity and continuity, thus promoting respect for cultural diversity and human creativity. Footnote 36
Regarding national legislation, the Colombian cultural law states that the objective of the heritage policy is to strengthen the management, safeguarding, and promotion of intangible heritage as a basic requirement for the collective development and well-being of communities. Law 1185 of 2008 and Decree 2941 of 2009, which regulate national cultural policy, both emphasize the connection between safeguarding intangible heritage and protecting communal rights. In addition, the cultural policy defines intangible cultural heritage elements (manifestaciones del patrimonio cultural inmaterial) as the “practices, uses, representations, expressions, knowledge, techniques, and cultural spaces that communities and groups recognize as an integral component of their identity and collective memory.” Footnote 37 The current law also specifies that to be included in any national heritage list, or to be presented as a candidate for UNESCO recognition, the cultural element must be identified by a community as a shared and collective resource. Footnote 38 In regard to Palenque, the policy is even more explicit; it states that the declaration and the subsequent safeguarding plan aim to promote intangible heritage as a means to strengthen the cultural and ethnic identity of Palenque and the community’s autonomy. Footnote 39
As with the heritage policy, the laws and regulations regarding Afro-descendant territories also emphasize a language of communal ethnic difference and group-based rights. Indeed, in order to be granted lands, the claimants must demonstrate that they identify as family collectives of Afro-Colombian descent who share a common history, culture, traditions, customs, and established communal land occupation practices that guarantee their self-sustainability. Footnote 40 Black communities seeking collective titles must be able to trace their history as a unified group, identify their territorial boundaries, and demonstrate a collective use of land. As stated in Law 70 of 1993, land rights are not recognized for individuals but, rather, for Afro-descendant groups, and the purpose of the law is to protect these communities’ ethnic and cultural diversity. As such, the claimants must create a community council to represent their group before the state. Footnote 41 The Afro-descendants’ right to communal land is premised on collective ethno-racial affiliation rather than recognition of their individual rights as Colombian nationals.
The focus on community rather than individuals continues to be regarded as a basic framework for claiming political rights and international recognition by Palenquero activists, academics, and Afro-descendant leaders, many of whom I interviewed during my field research in Colombia. For instance, during my conversations with a prominent member of PCN, she mentioned that Palenque’s heritage declaration was an important political tool to guarantee positive treatment, claim reparations as a Black community, and secure the group’s right to be different. Today, the discourse of ethnic difference is still the predominant language for referring to Black rights in Colombia in terms of culture, identity, and land. Footnote 42
As mentioned above, this strategic use of collective rights language was strengthened—but did not originate—with the 1991 constitutional reforms. Indeed, it followed the model of indigeneity claims that had previously succeeded in Colombia and other Latin American countries. Footnote 43 By the time the collective ethnic discourse was taking shape in Colombia, there was already a well-established set of global discourses, multilateral organizations, laws, and policies geared towards the protection and promotion of community-based rights. Footnote 44 By the turn of the twentieth century, many Latin American democracies, including Nicaragua, Panama, and Brazil, had already reformed their national constitutions with the explicit aim to recognize pluri-ethnicity, multiculturalism, and group-based rights. Footnote 45
This shift towards embracing multiculturalism and communal rights resulted from a combination of multiple factors taking place globally, including, but not limited to, formal democratization efforts in the South American region, Footnote 46 increasing pressure from organized Indigenous groups, Footnote 47 growing international human rights support from the United Nations, Footnote 48 and stronger movements toward reparative justice. Footnote 49 With the increasing global discussion of culturally differentiated rights and UNESCO’s promotion of cultural diversity, the international context matched well with Colombia’s own political environment, which favored the promotion of cultural diversity, positive discrimination, and collective rights. Footnote 50 This community-centered language also resonated well with the global Pan-Africanist movements influencing Latin American politics, the growing titling of collective Indigenous territories supported by the World Bank, and the African anti-colonial writings of the time. Footnote 51
WHOSE RIGHTS?
While the collective land titling and heritage recognition of African descendants are by and large interpreted by scholars as beneficial for Black communities, my research shows that the experiences of individual Palenqueros may temper this excitement. Although the protection of collective territories and heritage as well as the promotion of ethnic diversity have undoubtedly transformed the lives of many Black groups and pushed national legislation toward more inclusive democratic models, the positive outcomes seem less apparent at a smaller scale. In Palenque, the language of rights takes different meanings, and claims to collectivity and individuality are in constant tension with each other. Studies analyzing Afro-Colombian heritage and territory have underplayed, if not overlooked, the multiplicity of meanings and values that the “rights talk” has at different levels. Undoubtedly, at the national, regional, and international scales, the pursuit of communal heritage and territory has given greater levels of autonomy and political visibility to Afro-Colombians. However, this is only part of the story. At the local and individual scales, the language of rights has taken on a completely different meaning, bolstering claims to individual prerogatives, exclusive privilege, and social hierarchy.
In the days preceding the land entitlement ceremony with Obama, the media and several international NGOs were busy in Palenque and Cartagena organizing logistics, going over security protocols, and writing reports about the long-awaited event. Local and national newspapers were flooded with stories about Palenque’s past, its heritage declaration, and the historical importance of the shared ancestral territory. “A reward for their battle” and “a message of inclusion,” wrote El Espectador, a renowned national newspaper, referring to the collective entitlement. Footnote 52 “This is a new chapter in Palenque’s history, moving from intangible heritage to the execution of tangible development work,” the local media outlet El Universal reported enthusiastically. Footnote 53 In a widely publicized national interview, when asked about the collective land title granted to Palenque and La Boquilla (another Afro-descendant community located close to Cartagena), INCODER’s manager stated: “[T]hese two titles … are packed with profound meaning. It was so gratifying that these were the last two administrative acts I signed as manager. It is symbolic for me. Palenque is the symbol of freedom.” Footnote 54 The then director of the Ministry of Culture’s Intangible Heritage Division reported to the same newspaper:
[W]hat has made Palenque visible is its territory. It is a fundamental aspect of its identity. For Palenqueros, culture and territory are indivisible, because that is what made them free, it gave them dance, music, and a unique form of organization and language. The fact that there is a collective land title is an important milestone in their fight for being recognized for what they are. Footnote 55
Despite the national enthusiasm for the collective land deed, sentiments in town were much more mixed. In the days preceding the ceremony, I witnessed heated discussions between community members regarding the upcoming event. For years, locals had been ambivalent about the benefits of the collective entitlement, and there had been increasing tension between the two rival factions in Palenque. In advance of the ceremony, many of these sentiments resurfaced, rekindling strong disagreements between Palenqueros regarding who should be praised for what was now widely perceived as a historical accomplishment. These frustrations materialized in discussions about who should attend the ceremony, talk to the press, and be publicly commended.
In town, a number of organizations, including ACDI/VOCA Footnote 56 and USAID, Footnote 57 as well as delegates from the Colombian president’s office met with the community council and other influential Palenqueros in order to define the guest list for the event. This list, which was closely monitored by the presidency, included a mixture of regional political leaders, community council members, influential Palenqueros, public officials, and local media. As explained to me by members of the community council, there were 230 seats available, and much care had been taken to guarantee that only those who deserved to attend the ceremony would be invited. One council member explained: “There are only a few spots, and the ones going from Palenque should be those who deserve to be there, either because they are recognized leaders in town, or because of their commitment to the cause.” As we continued our conversations, another council member added: “Why should we reward those who have never been involved in the titling procedures?”
As I inquired more into this matter, I noticed that much of the discussion around the titling ceremony reflected deeper political divides and anxieties within Palenque. Participating in the ceremony and being included on the guest list served as proxies for publicly recognizing the individuals’ work towards the land entitlement. Importantly, it also helped solidify the political legitimacy and symbolic capital of the group receiving the land title from President Obama. At the time of the ceremony, the public conferral of the land title carried much political weight. Since 2012, the two political factions have been embroiled in one of the most significant and devastating disputes that Palenque has ever seen. As a result of the increasing tension between the two local factions, Palenque had two concurring community councils by 2013, each accusing the other of being illegitimate. After contradictory mandates coming from the Ministry of the Interior regarding the councils’ election dates, the sitting council led by Salgado (from the political opposition group) continued to hold power, even though a new council led by the intellectual elite had already been elected.
Although the intellectual elite had spearheaded the land-titling procedures for nearly a decade, the sitting community council led by the opposition had finally supported the initiative by 2012. As their struggle with the intellectual elite for visibility, legitimacy, and power escalated, the ceremony with Obama provided an ideal scenario for Salgado’s council to be publicly acknowledged as the legitimate governing body and the official community interlocutor. The sitting council capitalized on the media attention and public support for the collective entitlement to showcase its commitment to Palenque and raise its own public profile. Footnote 58 Just as the elites had done with the heritage declaration in years past, members of the political opposition were now claiming that their renewed support for—and work towards—the communal land title, justified greater public visibility, access, and positions of power for them. Footnote 59 The Palenqueros from the local political opposition explained to me their reasoning, claiming that as official representatives of the community and active participants in the titling process, their work should be acknowledged and their efforts rewarded by granting them a seat at the ceremony and a chance to greet Obama. As such, although the collective land entitlement secured a communal asset, it also created an opportunity for individuals to claim their right to represent Palenque and be publicly praised.
The successful declaration and titling have become not just symbols of Palenque’s victories but also examples of expertise and leadership of each particular group. Indeed, the heritage declaration and land titling granted greater public attention and political support not solely to San Basilio as an Afro-descendant town but also to the specific Palenqueros who worked toward these initiatives. The media attention, NGO involvement, and federal funding that followed the protection of heritage and land continue to benefit those who lobbied for these initiatives in the first place. Although members of the two local factions rarely agree on anything, both use the labor invested on the heritage declaration and land titling as means to justify and maintain their political advantages. As I have explored elsewhere, perceiving themselves as self-made cultural entrepreneurs, the intellectual elites feel exclusively entitled to benefit from Palenque’s declaration. Footnote 60 In our conversations, many sought to explain why they had the right to manage cultural projects, represent the community, or receive state assistance. In meetings with the Ministry of Culture, members of this group stressed the importance of distributing projects among those who could demonstrate experience and know-how in cultural initiatives. In private and public meetings, the cultural entrepreneurs implied that giving them control of heritage projects was also a way of recognizing their own long-standing work and positive trajectory in the field. In regard to the heritage declaration, the elites believe, on the one hand, that their expertise makes them better qualified to manage cultural heritage projects and, on the other, that the work invested in obtaining the declaration grants them the moral right to exclusively benefit from it.
As such, communal heritage and collective territory are perceived by these powerful individuals not solely as traits or goods belonging to the community but also as assets created through the lobbying and networking of those in positions of power. As created resources, not all Palenqueros should have equal rights to benefit from them, even if they share the same race, ethnicity, or descent. In short, for the members of these two groups, who by and large control Palenque’s political future, a specific type of work—namely, lobbying and networking with public officials—serves as a means to justify public recognition, positions of power, and privileged access to events such as the ceremony with Obama. This work is also used as evidence of the know-how and expertise needed to receive public funding or state protection. The type of labor that deserves recognition and should grant further advantages is both a symbolic marker of the status of those in power and the source of their social differentiation. Indeed, the distinction between those who worked for, and those who benefited from, the communal land deed or heritage declaration has helped to establish and maintain hierarchical distinctions between community members with unequal access to political, social, and economic capital. Footnote 61
Paradoxically, then, the quest for guaranteeing collective rights has contributed to the entrenchment of categories of difference and practices of distinction between individuals. The visibility and popularity granted by the declaration and land titling has helped some Palenqueros advance their own personal positions within a framework of communal belonging. As such, at some level, the language of rights has also been used to justify elitism and entrench social difference. Some locals even believe that the know-how and expertise related to land and heritage has become so important for securing funding and prestige that it has resulted in less attention to the real issues affecting Palenque’s heritage. Footnote 62 Ironically then, as Palenqueros’ communal rights are recognized and protected, so are the opportunities for the powerful to increase their own political capital.
Admittedly, wealth, education, and social differences have long existed in Palenque, and it would be misleading to assert that heritage or land protection by themselves created social hierarchies. It would also be inaccurate to state that either the elites or their rival group alone are responsible for the entrenched social divide in Palenque. In the past 10 years, however, social segregation and tensions between community factions have increased, and both the heritage declaration and the land entitlement have been contributing factors. Ironically, the resulting political conflicts and social divisions are negatively affecting the communal assets that the Palenqueros and the policymakers are aiming to protect. For instance, although Palenque has guaranteed federal funding for heritage-related projects, the Ministry of Culture has not been able to disburse most of its financial resources, given the legal battle between the two community councils. This has left Palenque unable to use millions of pesos each year for safeguarding and promoting their intangible heritage. Footnote 63 As asserted by the director of the Intangible Heritage Division, and documented by various consultants and researchers working in the town, the internal political conflict in Palenque has prevented other state entities from working with the Palenqueros and has stalled most projects with the ministry’s Intangible Heritage Division. Footnote 64
In sum, although they have not been the only causes, the processes of heritage inscription and land titling have provided a framework for the well connected to reassert their difference and have created a new source of political, social, and economic capital in town that only a few have been able to exploit. This new capital has pitted community members against each other, entrenching divisions between the supporters, beneficiaries, and leaders of the different factions. Those with political power are not claiming rights to benefit from land and heritage using the language of shared ethnicity or race but, rather, by invoking their work on the protection of communal assets. As such, the pursuit of collective territory and heritage has ended up enhancing already existing socioeconomic divides.
Rather than pointing at specific Palenqueros as the exclusive drivers of this situation, it is important to understand that they, like many other Afro-Colombians, are also trying to make a living while capitalizing on structures of opportunity provided by new Colombian ethno-racial laws and regulations. In their quest to survive, some Palenqueros have simply been able to take advantage of the entrepreneurial opportunities and language provided by the state within the framework of ethnic and territorial recognition. The already privileged socioeconomic position, education, and networks of some individuals have facilitated their initial involvement in the heritage inscription and land-titling processes. As heritage protection and communal land ownership materialized, the influence of a few consolidated and gave them more power to claim for their perceived exclusive rights.
In short, despite the leverage that communal rights talk has in Palenque, there is a parallel discourse on rights that is equally compelling and yet has very different power effects. Communal rights and individual prerogatives inhabit the same physical space but operate at different levels. The distinct notions of rights, which uncomfortably coexist, are put to work in different moments, serve separate interests, and rally disparate publics. Footnote 65 While the collective rights vocabulary serves to leverage national and global recognition for the community, the individual rights talk provides a local justification for the earned privileges of a few. Interestingly, both notions of rights might be espoused by members of the same community, but they garner traction in different venues and scales. Footnote 66 This highlights the complexity of rights talk in Palenque, which has multiple meanings at different times. When writing the UNESCO dossier or speaking about the communal land title, Palenqueros evoke the importance of their collective rights. When debating among themselves about their roles and power in town, their language turns instead to individual prerogatives.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS: CHANGING PUBLICS, CHANGING RIGHTS
Although the scholarship on multicultural recognition, Afro-Colombian rights, and heritage has dramatically increased in the past 10 years, few detail the resulting contradictory results for Afro-descendant groups. Footnote 67 Although collective rights claims have benefited many, the language of communal rights does not operate in isolation but, rather, exists side by side with an individual notion of deserved prerogatives. While at the global, regional, and national levels, Afro-descendant collective rights are positively interpreted, by and large, as a means of sociocultural cohesion, at a local scale, the meaning of rights more closely relates to individual prerogatives that justify distinction based on a specific type of labor.
In San Basilio de Palenque, the narratives of collective rights and individual prerogatives are often used by the same community but claim very different things. While the communal language of rights garners recognition and protection for a shared territory and culture, the talk of individual prerogatives provides a framework to bargain for exclusive benefits. Paradoxically, as both understandings of rights coexist, the successes granted by communal rights have increasingly become a platform on which hierarchy and inequality can grow. To be clear, this is not to say that the language of—or the political mobilization around—collective rights has created hierarchical divisions. Instead, my point is that the pursuit of communal rights has contributed to enhance the already existing divide between the two local factions as well as between the powerful individuals and the rest of the Palenqueros. As only a few continue having the means to work toward land and heritage safeguarding, most locals today are still unable to capitalize on the opportunities brought by the protection of communal goods.
The case of Palenque exemplifies more than a simple clash between collective and individual rights claims. Rather, it speaks to the intersectionality of rights and the competing and overlapping series of meanings and actions that rights language presently holds. Footnote 68 The rights talk in Palenque is strategically manipulated to serve distinct purposes at different levels, and, at various moments, it empowers, unites, divides, or even pits community members against each other. Footnote 69 The debate over the meanings and uses of rights cannot be considered in the abstract but, instead, must be seen as reflecting how rights are contextual, malleable, and strategic. Footnote 70 The definition of rights changes not only between ethnic groups or across time and space but also within a single community. In Palenque, rights are perceived as earned prerogatives, moral claims, or legal entitlements that simultaneously benefit all Palenqueros and only a few. This perception, in turn, calls for a more nuanced understanding of rights, one based on the way they are put to work, actualized, and experienced by multiple actors at different moments.
As the heritage declaration and land titling became a reality in Palenque, a new language of political mobilization emerged that intertwined a specific type of labor with claims for ethnic and territorial rights. Although a shared ethno-racial identity in national policy and international public discourse is enough to claim the right to benefit from a communal asset; in town, some Palenqueros believe that it is not enough. Instead, the right to profit from collective assets, receive public acknowledgment, and occupy positions of influence is also based on the work invested in achieving the heritage declaration and the land titling. As a result, the labor invested in protecting communal goods is used by some Palenqueros as justification for individual prerogatives. Footnote 71 Despite a progressive public policy aimed at protecting ethno-racial difference and collective territory, Palenqueros are facing new forms of social exclusion, increased internal political tensions, and entrenched economic divisions.
The analysis presented in this article should prompt heritage scholars to create analytical frameworks that consider the intersectionality, rather than the incommensurability, of rights claims at different scales. We must acknowledge that rights are never stable, absolute, or unchanging. Footnote 72 As the language of rights becomes increasingly important for the construction of Black political subjectivity in Colombia, it is more timely now than ever to unpack what constitutes rights, how are they claimed, and to trace the intersections between collective, individual, ethnic, and class divides.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
I am deeply grateful to Bahar Aykan and Anne Laura Kraak whose careful reading and insightful observations greatly improved this article. I express my gratitude to the anonymous reviewers who provided constructive comments and to Erin Martineau who revised an earlier version of this article. This research has been supported by several centers, programs, and institutions inside and outside Stanford University, University of California Santa Barbara, and the University of Oregon. I received financial and logistical assistance from UCSB’s Department of Black Studies; the Social Sciences Research Council; the Fulbright Program; Colfuturo Colombia; and the Latin American Studies Association. At Stanford, I received the support from the Humanities Center’s Mellon Foundation Dissertation Fellowship; the Research Institute of Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity; the Michelle R. Clayman Institute for Gender Research; the Haas Center for Public Service; the Office of the Vice Provost for Graduate Education; the School of Humanities and Sciences; the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies; the Center for Latin American Studies; the Stanford Center on Philanthropy and Civil Society; the Ric Weiland Graduate Fellowship; the Stanford Archaeology Center; and the Department of Anthropology. At the University of Oregon, I received support from the College of Arts and Sciences; the Office of the Vice President for Research and Innovation; and the Department of Anthropology.
