During the Haitian Revolution of 1791-1804, arguably the most radical revolution of the modern world, slaves and former slaves succeeded in ending slavery and establishing an independent state. Yet on the Spanish island of Cuba barely fifty miles distant, the events in Haiti helped usher in the antithesis of revolutionary emancipation. When Cuban planters and authorities saw the devastation of the neighboring colony, they rushed to fill the void left in the world market for sugar, to buttress the institutions of slavery and colonial rule, and to prevent "another Haiti" from happening in their own territory.
"Freedom's Mirror" follows the reverberations of the Haitian Revolution in Cuba, where the violent entrenchment of slavery occurred at the very moment that the Haitian Revolution provided a powerful and proximate example of slaves destroying slavery. By creatively linking two stories - the story of the Haitian Revolution and that of the rise of Cuban slave society - that are usually told separately, Ada Ferrer sheds fresh light on both of these crucial moments in Caribbean and Atlantic history."
Ada Ferrer is Julius Silver Professor of History and Latin American and Caribbean Studies at New York University, where she has taught since 1995. She is the author of Insurgent Cuba: Race, Nation, and Revolution, 1868–1898, which won the 2000 Berkshire Book Prize for the best first book by a woman in any field of history, and Freedom’s Mirror: Cuba and Haiti in the Age of Revolution, which won the Frederick Douglass Prize from the Gilder Lehrman Center at Yale University, as well as multiple prizes from the American Historical Association. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, she has been traveling to and conducting research on the island regularly since 1990.
I LOVED LOVED this book this time around. It's crazy what a difference two years can make. Ferrer does amazing work tying so many threads together to create a big readable narrative. The comparative element brings everything together to show just how interconnected the region has always been. __________________ First Review (Feb 18-22, 2022)
Ada Ferrer’s Freedom’s Mirror examines the Haitian Revolution’s contribution to creating deep-seated slavery in Cuba. Ferrer says the Haitian Revolution sped up the rise of the Cuban sugar revolution, fixing the cruel practices of enslavement that came with the increase in sugar production. The text shows that the growing power of slavery in Cuba is mirrored by the radical antislavery emerging from Haiti; Ferrer says it’s a story of slavery being unmade and made. Splitting the book into two sections: the first focuses on the period of the Haitian Revolution and the second section on the aftermath of the Revolution. Ferrer breaks down her argument into different threads. The first four chapters are focused on Cuba: before the Haitian Revolution, responses and broader understandings of the revolution, Cuban experience in Spanish Santo Domingo, and Cuba as a place of asylum and ally to Napoleon’s regime. The last three chapters study Haiti’s intellectual, diplomatic, and political effects in the Caribbean, broken down into the questions of if Haitian antislavery was promoted abroad, what instability was caused by Napoleon in 1808, and how affective was the antislavery and anti-colonial movement of Jose Antonio Aponte.
Building upon the historiographical idea of the second wave of slavery in the Americas, Ferrer intervenes to show that freedom was already present in the second wave. She challenges the assumption that abolition of slavery was already a foregone conclusion. While British abolition played a significant part in the anti-slavery movement during the second wave, Haiti was already present and advocating anti-slavery. Thus, this discussion wipes away an Anglophone narrative of slavery’s rise and fall. Examining Haiti and Cuba side by side shows the connections from first to second slavery by answering broad questions related to capitalism and the global history of slavery. Primary sources come from various places: Cuba, Spain, Haiti, France, England, and the United States. Ferrer uses the online database of The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database. A wide range of secondary sources is used. The sources directly from Haiti appear limited in the bibliography. The proximity of Cuba to Haiti shows each place would contend with the other as they grew in opposition of relation with one another. Ferrer’s narrative style is thick, with many references and examples. The constant hammering of anti-colonialism accompanying the antislavery movement was powerful. It is a reminder that resistance to colonialism and decolonisation efforts is not a new phenomenon but has always been present in the Caribbean. It helps me rethink my views of Haiti, as it is usually portrayed negatively in The Bahamas.
It sounds like overkill to call an academic history "brilliant," but this book blew me away. It's an examination of slavery and the plantation economy in Cuba in the light of the Haitian Revolution. You do have to read it carefully, but it's also filled with fascinating anecdotes and characters. Highly recommended if you're at all interested in Haiti, or Cuba, or the history of slavery and abolition in general. (And seeing Black Panther while reading this book made me wish so much for a big splashy Hollywood epic about Toussaint Louverture.)
This is really phenomenal stuff. Ada Ferrer provides a dense but highly readable history of the Haitian Revolution — arguably an easier read than CLR James's venerable book on the revolution, The Black Jacobins. But Ferrer moves beyond Haiti to show the connections between Haiti and Cuba. Her thesis is that the Haitian Revolution had immediate effects on Cuba, inspiring the Spanish-Cuban government and plantation owners to expand their use of African slavery. The result was that Cuba ramped up its production of sugar and other export crops, filling the void left in Atlantic trade by the end of Haiti's sugar trade. Haiti also exerted symbolic power among African slaves throughout the Caribbean, inspiring attempted slave revolts in Trinidad and Cuba. Meanwhile, the Cuban elites, much to their consternation, found themselves repeatedly forced to ally with the Haitians on the order of the Spanish government during the Napoleonic Wars. The paradox is that Cuban elites, who hated free Haiti, fought with the Haitians against the French, and later with the French against the British. Ferrer also covers the Haitians' political instability, Haitian attempts to capture slave transports and liberate the human cargo, and an unsuccessful slave rebellion in 1812 Cuba. The Spanish revolution of 1808 and the ensuing civil war also make an appearance, although Ferrer might have concluded this particular storyline in a more detailed manner. The book loses some momentum about halfway through, and sometimes the enormous complexities of the politics are tough to digest. These factors prevent me from adding a fifth star to my rating. Nonetheless, Ferrer has written an extremely thorough, surprising, and original book on the Haitian Revolution and provided a substantial look at Cuba in the process.
Ferrer connects and contrasts Haiti's revolution with the entrenchment of and rebellion against slavery in Cuba at the turn of the 19th century. The stories of Juan Barbier and Jose Antonio Aponte's book of images will stick with me the most. Also, the last sentence of the epilogue is a doosy and profoundly connects post-revolutionary Haiti and Cuba.
Why did Revolution occur in Haiti and not Cuba? What happened on the other side of Revolution? Ferrer answers these questions and much more in this groundbreaking work that looks at both Haiti and Cuba at a time of slavery, emancipation, and revolution.
"Freedom's Mirror" covers the impact of the Haitian revolution on Cuba, showing how the successful Haitian slave revolt led to Cuba stepping in to take a dominant role in sugar production and trade, and freedom in Haiti paradoxically allowing Cuba to expand and consolidate slavery. Cuba, along with Brazil and the U.S. South, is thus an example of a period of "second slavery," with consolidated, expanded, and even more extractive slave industries operating in an increasingly anti-slavery global environment.
Ferrer covers the expansion of slavery in Cuba alongside its opponents both in Haiti and in attempted Cuban-based revolts. She also explores how Cubans served in Spain's army under Spanish Santo Domingo, initially supporting the black rebels in their fight against France. Cuba also served as a refuge for planters from Haiti and supported Napoleon in reasserting control over Haiti. While Haiti likely did not actively promote antislavery abroad, Ferrer discusses the instances where it is thought they might have - and highlights how Haiti regardless served as an example and inspiration to slave revolts for decades to come.
My favorite chapter was the last one - this chapter being the reason for giving the book a 5 star rating (and not a 4). In this chapter, Ferrer provides an interpretation of the pictures of a lost book used by José Antonio Aponte in organizing an unfortunately unsuccessful slave revolt in Cuba. While we don't have the contents of the book, we do have the testimony of witnesses who saw it and asked Aponte questions about it. These pictures portrayed Black people throughout history, with Ethiopia being particularly highlighted but also including Egyptians and Black cardinals, demonstrating the political, military, and spiritual power that Black people had held and could hold again through the planned slave revolt. As Ferror explains, the term "Ethiopian" was often used by white writers as a synonym for Black people, but mostly in situations that conveyed a threat or a certain amount of autonomy. The invocation of Ethiopia was therefore consciously used to communicate the threat that Black people could pose and the power they could sway if they revolted. It is furthermore fascinating to see how Aponte demonstrated an understanding of history that the white witnesses, themselves not being attuned to the historical agency of Black people, were often quite unaware of.
While Aponte feigned a milder interpretation in his testimony, Ferrer convincingly demonstrates the coded messages of other images, including one with the planet Mercury being pulled in a carriage by two large birds, with a staff supposedly symbolizing the progress of commerce, and a guard trying to stop contraband and instead meeting his death. In the carriage, there was a picture of Spain's prime minister, with a falling feather symbolizing his fall from power during the crisis of 1808. While Aponte claimed that this picture celebrated the progress of commerce, Ferrer convincingly argues that it instead celebrates the END of a particular kind of commerce, namely that of enslaved people, with the inclusion of the warship San Lorenzo in the picture representing some of the actors who would bring about this end of slavery, since some of the members of the black militia who had served on this ship were in on the conspiracy.
An important book for showcasing how slavery not only persisted, but expanded, before its end was ultimately brought about-and a great example of how transnational history can help us reach a better historical understanding.
Ada Ferrer illustrates novel connections between seemingly unconnected historical events. Despite that, her book is repetitive and possibly too long.
Ada Ferrer begins her introduction stating plainly that she would show how the Haitian revolution influenced the spread of Cuban slavery and slave economy and vice versa. While this made the book easy to follow, it also lended itself to the repetitive element.
The first couple chapters described how the Cubans learned of and viewed the Haitian revolution. Perhaps one of the best strengths in Ferrer’s writing was the nuance and presence of contradictions. She did a beautiful job highlighting contradiction after contradiction in how the Cubans viewed slaves/Haitian Revolution as both a contagion/security threat should they rebel and an economic opportunity. She also did a very thorough job of analyzing all the mechanisms by which this contradiction flowed: labeling slaves as ladinos/bozales to determine their risk factor, having the planter elite dominate the political landscape, accepting biased anecdotes from slave captains to inform themselves. As sugar plantations and mills exploded, as the planters lobbied the Spanish king for a freer slave trade, they worried about the possibility of rebellion on their lands.
An even more interesting contradiction was how these Cubans refused to give slaves and black people political will even while worrying about the defining political event of the century. By assuming blacks were inherently violent (ironically overlooking the violet system of slavery) and that the Haitian revolution would not produce a new political system, they underestimated their would-be rebels and belittled one of the most unique and important historical events ever. Ferrer’s illustration of this mechanism with the laughable and unimaginable alliance between the Haitians and the Spanish only further demonstrated the doublethink the Cubans displayed to satiate their greed and yet hold onto their prejudices.
An interesting discussion occured in how the slave revolt created and inspired new rebellions. There were unforeseen parallels to Benedict Anderson’s idea of imagined communities, in how the Cubans sacrificed pigs, awaited the black auxiliaries, idolized the actions of Toussaint in terrorizing the Caribbean and King Christophe in ruling a county, and envisioned ties between Ethiopia and Haiti (of course through novel and paper).
However, I do think that after chapter four or five, the themes of the book repeated themselves. While new mechanisms of connection were proposed, the book took on more of a detailed, somewhat annual, review of history than an analysis. There may have been some possibility for cutting the book, possibly chapter six.
Despite that, I learned a lot from this book and rethought my history of the Caribbean.
In Freedoms Mirror, Ferrer paints a vivid picture of two states joined in a dance of revolution and counter-revolution. Starting from the early slave uprisings of the Haitian revolution to the doubling down of the Spanish-Cuban slave trade, the book follows a chronology that sees the collapse of one of Haiti as one the richest plantation societies in the wake of an enlightened abolitionist society and the rise of Cuba as a superpower in the slave based economic world.
The Haitian revolution is one of the most under studied yet most important topics when understanding the development and implementation of the enlightenment values so much of the world takes for granted now. To see it through the eyes of a state explicitly siphoning off its productive capabilities and designing itself in a way to directly counter the trends of liberation found in its neighbor creates an early analogue for similar relationships that would come. To see a state where the lowest overthrew their (literal) masters and went through a period that paired strife and war and dictatorship and neocolonialism with the truest liberation and cultural cultivation of post-slavery black people that would be seen for a century, with a state that did everything in its power to entrench and expand the slave trade and the plantation economy it supported is the purest image of the dialectic of the time.
This is an very well cited and fairly accessable read for the amateur, and the reader never feels lost or overwhelmed by academic language. I got a lot out of Freedoms Mirror but what felt like a fairly narrow academic thesis left me constantly projecting my own interpretations of the history onto Ferrers work. But that's my problem as an amateur reading an academic history, of course.
Excellent treatment of the way liberation in Haiti helped to entrench slavery (commercially, socially, ideologically) in Cuba. The legacy of the Haitian Rev is thus more complicated than it is sometimes presented. Haiti also served as a « black kingdom of this world », a concrete example that liberation was possible, and a diasporas state.
However, Haiti was a STATE - it was bounded, it was coercive. Even some aspects of Haitian anti slavery were bounded. The transnational movement for liberation from slavery was something the early Haitian state contained - Dessalines notifying Jamaica of a brewing slave revolt is an example of the kind of conciliatory politics Haitian leaders had to practice in a world of slaveholding empires. It appears there exists a tension between this kind of liberation and states.
As for later Haitian naval activity, while I agree with Ferrer that we should think about two phases of slavery - primarily made distinct by the rising tide of abolitionism and the existence of Haiti - the growth of Haiti’s anti slavery naval efforts strike me as intimately connected to US and British abolition of the trade legitimizing Haiti’s activity in the international space.
If you are looking for a book that will help you to understand the Haitian Revolution better (which I was) or even a comparative history for Cuba and Haiti during the Age of Revolution, this is probably not the book you are looking for. The subtitle of this book is quite deceptive in that regard. The book is really a deep dive into the perceptions that Cubans had of the Haitian Revolution and how the Haitian Revolution influenced the events in Cuba during the 1790s through the 1810s. The author is a Cuban historian primarily, and although some of the events in Haiti are covered in depth, the perspective is from the Cuban or more generally the Spanish side of things. The other warning is that the book is mainly for Cuban or Caribbean specialists. It is very dense and focuses on historiographical minutia that a general audience would not likely find interesting or helpful. So while I did learn a good deal from this book and it is well written and organized, it is not what I was expecting based on the title and the descriptions of it and it could have better been featured as an article or two in a historical journal.
So good, culminating with the amazing description of a non-existent book:
"We can ask ourselves, then, whether this was Rome, as Aponte said to authorities, or the Caribbean, or somewhere else entirely. But that question will not get us very far. The images in the book were strategically ambiguous. They could refer to a contemporary world that had given rise to men like Dessalines and Christophe. They could denote the present and immediate future, in which black men would do battle for freedom right there in Havana. Or they could represent something completely different. Black armies defeating white ones could be explained by reference to longago and faraway history; so too could the existence of very powerful black men. And so, when Aponte – artist and teacher – explained the images, he could tell different stories depending on the circumstance and the audience. History here was strategic; it provided a cover and an explanation for potentially subversive futures."
I wasn't able to finish it because it was an interlibrary loan that was overdue, but for a dense, well-researched academic text, this book was engaging as hell! I found myself learning new things and making connections I was NOT expecting. I will be revisiting this book soon, I promise.