Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar

by Fernando Ortiz Fernández, Harriet de Onís (Translator)

First published in 1940 and long out of print, Fernando Ortiz’s classic work, Cuban Counterpoint is recognized as one of the most important books of Latin American and Caribbean intellectual history. Ortiz’s examination of the impact of sugar and tobacco on Cuban society is unquestionably the cornerstone of Cuban studies and a key source for work on Caribbean culture generally. Though written over fifty years ago, Ortiz’s study of the formation of a national culture in this region has significant implications for contemporary postcolonial studies.
Ortiz presents his understanding of Cuban history in two complementary sections written in contrasting a playful allegorical tale narrated as a counterpoint between tobacco and sugar and a historical analysis of their development as the central agricultural products of the Cuban economy. Treating tobacco and sugar both as agricultural commodities and as social characters in a historical process, he examines changes in their roles as the result of transculturation. His work shows how transculturation, a critical category Ortiz developed to grasp the complex transformation of cultures brought together in the crucible of colonial and imperial histories, can be used to illuminate not only the history of Cuba, but, more generally, that of America as well.
This new edition includes an introductory essay by Fernando Coronil that provides a contrapuntal reading of the relationship between Ortiz’s book and its original introduction by the renowned anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski. Arguing for a distinction between theory production and canon formation, Coronil demonstrates the value of Ortiz’s book for anthropology as well as Cuban, Caribbean, and Latin American studies, and shows Ortiz to be newly relevant to contemporary debates about modernity, postmodernism, and postcoloniality.

Genres: Nonfiction, Anthropology, History

408 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1940

About the author

Essayist, anthropologist, ethnomusicologist and scholar of Afro-Cuban culture. Ortiz was a prolific polymath dedicated to exploring, recording, and understanding all aspects of indigenous Cuban culture. Ortiz coined the term "transculturation," the notion of converging cultures.

Reviews

[Julio The Fox · Rating 5 out of 5]

Remember how George Carlin once said football and baseball defined America through counterpoints? "In football, you enter the enemy end zone. In baseball, you get to go home." Fernando Ortiz, in this historical and anthropological masterpiece, has done the same thing for Cuba. Tobacco and sugar are what define Cubanidad, that ineffable yet all-present feeling of being Cuban. (In the interest of full disclosure I've been accused of not being Cuban by everyone from fellow Cuban exiles to Brazilian girlfriends.) Tobacco is "soft" in Cuba: the leaves are tender, the soil is rich, the plots of land are small and property is in the hands of small farmers; yes, this is true even in Socialist Cuba today. Sugar is the hardline of Cuban history; grown on huge fields, manufactured at plantations under horrific working conditions and requiring mass labor, and even that labor force is unemployed for half the year when sugar is not in season. What tobacco and sugar have in common is commodity fetishism. They take on the qualities of gods who shape the world around them and then that world reshapes itself to suit their needs. (Ortiz, who died in 1969, was not a Marxist nor a supporter of the Castro regime. Trust me. I've spoken with his daughter.) Yet, tobacco and sugar overcome their differences and find a happy ending, in Cuba according to Ortiz. Whether Cuba will ever find a happy ending is another question.

[Nicholas · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is a noted sense of lament in Ortiz’s allegorical interplay between the Cuban sugar and tobacco. Sugar, with its foreign roots in the Far East, what Columbus died thinking Cuba was indeed a part of, manifests itself as a force of change, intervention, mechanization and subsequently invasion. Ortiz uses the introduction of sugar to the geography and economy as a way to demonstrate and give reason for the modernization of Cuba, and for the most part shows it as having a negative impact. Slavery, the assarting of land, and violate changes to the Cuban economy and style of living are shown to be linked with the spread of sugar plantations. Ortiz’s vilification of sugar in the poetic language that he uses demonstrates a clear bias against the changes wrought upon the island by the introduction of sugar cane growing. His sociological approach shines as Ortiz demonstrates the different lifestyles between those huddled in sugar factories versus the more independent tobacco farmer. Taking a page from Karl Marx’s notion of alienation and Durkheim’s anomie, Ortiz writes of how the work in Cuba’s sugar economy holds an inherent dehumanization that goes beyond the latent slavery that was used in the plantations.

The demonized cigar spokesman of Gary Trudeua’s Doonseburry cartoon would indeed love Ortiz’s text as tobacco is without question portrayed as the “hero” of the piece. Balanced more in the first section, but still a recurring theme throughout the entire text is the intimate link between tobacco and the soul of Cuban culture, and the positive aspects of its history and success. Invariably, Ortiz recognizes the fact that Cuba’s contribution to the world will forever be its stature as the home of the best cigar in the world. The humanistic and egalitarian aspects of tobacco are stressed through some often extreme but nonetheless elegantly illustrated narratives in the first half of the book. Ortiz’s deep feelings for his homeland and a campisno lifestyle reveals itself through his innumerable linkages between tobacco and a lifestyle of freedom, honesty and one that is closer to man’s nature. Ortiz’s patriotic fervor when describing the cultivation of tobacco is a good resources to gauge the intensity of the unique Cuban character at this time.

The exhaustiveness of the text is both a curse and a blessing, manifesting itself worse through Ortiz’s lyrical but often repetitive style that stresses points that were well made the first three or four times. The theme that “Tobacco is a magic gift of the savage world; sugar is a scientific gift of civilization” (Ortiz, 46) is repeated again and again in different variations and permutations, but nonetheless saying essentially the same thing. The first half of the text, although a pleasure to read, lacks proper weight as a historical piece as Ortiz seems more concerned with discovering new literary flourishes to illustrate the same point rather then providing more historical detail. As if to counter against what has come before, the second half becomes a rather dry, albeit detailed, further account of tobacco and sugar’s development in Cuba and its impact around the world. Among the minutia that is analyzed are the true origins of the rolled cigar, the economic relationship between the Church and tobacco, and the evolution of cigar holders dating back to the original natives. As acknowledged in the book’s introduction, this tome serves as among one of the first exclusive history of Cuba; however its enormous detail on the history of tobacco probably qualifies it as one of a kind in that arena as well, justifying the second half of this book.

With today’s focus on globalism, Ortiz’s self-proclaimed original use of the term transculturalism is one of the prime interests to readers of this book today. Ortiz’s interests in the impact of cultures when they collide showcase a sociological angle to his examination of Cuban history. Ortiz uses tobacco as an example of transculturization at work and recognizes how Cuba’s development was emblematic of how the Industrial Revolution led to the mixing of new foods, ideas, and more from across the oceans. Much of his comparisons between the productions of sugar and tobacco offers examples of the growing divisions of labor that were central to sociological explorations by academics such as Emilie Durkhiem and others. Working as not only an early and vital historical text, Cuban Counterpoint also offers much to those looking for an early sociological look at Cuba or simply a genuinely inventive and vibrant piece of literature that celebrates the Cuban spirit.

[Scherzo · Rating 4 out of 5]

El tabaco contiene un tóxico: la nicotina (Capítulo adicional IV); el azúcar porta nutrientes: los carbohidratos. El tabaco envenena, el azúcar sostiene. La nicotina excita la mentalidad, inspirándola diabólicamente; el exceso de glucosa en la sangre alela el cerebro y hasta provoca el embrutecimiento. Ya sólo por esto sería el tabaco un liberal reformista y el azúcar un retardatario conservador, pues bien se dijo hace un siglo en Inglaterra que los whigs son casi demonios y los tories son casi imbéciles. pág.144

Pero fue aquélla la edad picaresca y nada se logró para atajar al indianejo tabaco, que, como el Diablo Cojuelo, se fue corriendo por el mundo porque en todo él encontró ansia de ilusiones y tolerancia de picardías. pág.147

Dar unas hojas de tabaco o un cigarro que fumar era un gesto de paz y de amistad entre los indianos de Guanahaní, entre los taínos y entre algunos más del Continente. Tal como se acostumbra hoy día entre los blancos de las naciones civilizadas. Fumar en la misma pipa, aspirar el rapé de una misma tabaquera, brindarse mutuamente cigarros, son ritos de amistad y comunión como beber de un mismo vino o partir un mismo pan. Así es entre indios de América, blancos de Europa y negros de África. pág.150

En el azúcar el predominio extranjero siempre fue notable y en el presente es casi exclusivo. El tabaco ha sido siempre más cubano que el azúcar por su nacimiento, por su espíritu y por su economía.. pág210

El manipuleo del tabaco se hace por los torcedores, sentados en sendas mesas unos junto a otros, como escolares que hacen repaso de sus libros en el colegio. Por esto ha sido posible establecer en las tabaquerías una costumbre, tomada de los refectorios de los conventos y de las prisiones, cual es la de la lectura en alta voz para que la oigan todos los operarios mientras dura su tarea en el taller. pág.245

De este párrafo parece poder deducirse que de picietl o tabaco los indios aztecas hacían “idolitos chiquitos” que “ellos mismos se lo recibían como cuerpo o memoria de sus dioses”. Es decir, una sagrada eucaristía de tabaco. Los mexicanos practicaban mucho esos ritos teofágicos que tanto sorprendieran a los clérigos españoles por su equivalencia con la comunión eucarística de los católicos. pág.348

El tabaco que, sobre su naturaleza físico-química y sus efectos fisiológicos individuale , tuvo entre los indoamericanos una original armazón social de carácter predominantemente religioso, adquirió entre los euroamericanos y luego en el resto de los pueblos una estructura de carácter principalmente económico, por un muy curioso, rápido y total fenómeno de transculturación. pág.424

Si Dante y Milton pintaron mejor los antros del infierno que los ámbitos del Paraíso fue porque eran verdaderos poetas y, por lo tanto, del partido del diablo sin que ellos mismos lo supieran. pág.499

Con la vida moderna, veloz y a ritmo de máquina, el tabaco se habría ahuyentado si el cigarrillo no lo hubiera sostenido, lubricando sus fricciones y válvulas y refrescando las energías. A la pipa se la denominó por un inglés: “sedentaria”; al cigarro puro se le dijo por otro autor: “ambulatorio”. Ahora leemos que al cigarrillo se le llama “impaciente”. Esos adjetivos son muy expresivos. La pipa es más reposo y evocación del pasado; el cigarro es más vía y goce del presente; el cigarrillo es más premura, escape de nervios y esperanza del futuro. Por eso los tiempos que corren, de tantas inquietudes, apresuraciones, angustias y anhelos, son la edad del cigarrillo, que todos buscan como sedante y como estímulo a la vez. pág.526


Es muy agudamente realista la idea de Fray Bartolomé de que en esa política de la transición de una cultura a otra, para ir ajustando los indios insulares a la cultura de los castellanos había que acodicirarlos. Es una de sus más penetrantes observaciones. Era indispensable infiltrarles el espíritu característico de la economía monetaria y competitiva, propia del capitalismo mercantil, basado en el individualismo adinerador, para sustituir al de la economía de consumo y comunitaria que practicaban los indios antillanos. Los frailes jerónimos del Cardenal Cisneros, en su información recogida entre pobladores de la Española oyeron cómo éstos apuntaban repetidamente que en el complejo cultural de los indígenas la carencia de tal resorte económico era lo más decisivo: “no tenían sentido de los valores de las cosas”, “no sabían guardar”, “a veces dan por nada”. Mucho tiempo después, el jurisconsulto Solórzano Pereira dirá lo mismo: “tienen poca codicia”. Y esto aún es lo más importante ahora la transición de las culturas “primitivas” a las más “adelantadas”. pág.602

Como Las Casas explicaba, "la falta que más comúnmente han tenido y tienen y siempre tendrán los españoles que a estas tierras vienen, de aprender la lengua de estas gentes, porque no vienen de España a ella, sino a ser ricos, se ha causado ignorar su prudencia, su habilidad, sus buenos entendimientos y los actos ejercitados de ellos; su buen juicio y saber, sus buenas costumbres y su natural filosofía. pág.621

El tabaco cubano aparece en la historia legislativa por las prohibiciones de que fue objeto y no, como el azúcar, por los favores que se le brindaron. pág.659

El más temible enemigo del tabaco cubano fue interno; complicado a veces con la inepcia y la corrupción de los gobiernos. Estudiar ese conflicto es penetrar en uno de los más profundos problemas sociales de Cuba, el de la propiedad de la tierra, en una fase muy trascendente de su historia. Apenas la vega comienza a ser foco de producción económica, la combate el gran hacendado. pág.692

[Natalia Hernández Moreno · Rating 5 out of 5]

“En el tabaco, en cambio, la galera del taller puede permanecer silen­ ciosa si se acalla el vocerío de las conversaciones. El manipuleo del tabaco se hace por los torcedores sentados en sendas mesas, unos junto a otros, como escolares que hacen repaso de sus libros en el colegio. Por esto ha sido posible establecer en las tabaquerías una costumbre tomada de los refectorios de los conventos y de las prisiones, cual es la de la lectura en alta voz para que la oigan todos los operarios mientras dura su tarea en el taller.

El azúcar se produce por una orquestación de máquinas ruidosas; el tabaco se elabora en silencio o con palabra libre. El azúcar se hace con ritmo colectivo; el tabaco con melodía individual. El azucarero industrial tiene trabajo muy movido, rudo, ensordecedor y rutinario; el tabaquero en la fábrica hace su labor sentado y con el goce y provecho de hablar y de oír”.

[Jason · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you mention Cuba, the first thing most people will think of is revolution, politics, Fidel Castro, and Che Guevara. The second thing would probably be music and dancing. After that, I’m guessing another strong association with that Caribbean island nation would be cigars. There might be a few other general associations like beaches, palm trees, jungles, Ernest Hemingway, and rum. Somewhere in there you might also find sugarcane. This is significant for Cuban anthropologist Fernando Ortiz since the titular essay of his book Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco & Sugar is about defining his country’s national identity through its most prevalent economic industries.

While Fernando Ortiz is considered to have been Cuba’s premier anthropologist to date, the titular essay really isn’t a work of social science. The point of it is to compare and contrast Cuba’s sugar and tobacco industries in order to define the national character of the Cuban people. From the start it is clear that he believes tobacco to be the ultimate symbol of Cubanismo and that he has a less favorable view of the sugarcane industry even though it has been the backbone of Cuba’s economy for at least two centuries.

His argument is provocative. Tobacco is a native plant to Cuban soil and its cultivation and use was a part of the Taino and Arawak indigenous people’s culture before the arrival of European colonialists. Tobacco is grown in dry riverbeds called “vegas” and even though some cigars are manufactured using machinery, those of the highest quality are hand-rolled. Thus, making a good cigar is a craft or an art form, as he puts it, more than an industrially produced commodity. Cuban cigars are also a source of national pride because they are popular worldwide and considered to be the gold standard of smokes by connoisseurs. That is why if you tell someone you have a box of habanas or puro cubanos they know by association that it is a box of the best cigars you can buy. Even cigars from neighboring countries like the Dominican Republic or Jamaica don’t compare. The use of the words “habanas” and “cubanos” to mean cigars proves semantically just how closely people outside the country associate cigars with Cuba.

Sugar, on the other hand, is just sugar. While the quality of tobacco can range from putrid to a champagne-like elegance, there is little to no difference once sugar crystals have been processed and granulated into the white powder we find in any grocery store around the world. Sugar that comes from sugarcane is also indistinguishable from that produced by sugar beets. People generally don’t associate sugar with any particular nation the way tobacco is strongly associated with Cuba. Sugarcane was also imported by colonialists and is therefore, not native to the Caribbean. Sugarcane cultivation and the manufacture of processed sugar is also the primary reason so many slaves were imported into Cuba. This is a source of shame to Ortiz who also uses this as a chance to take a swipe at capitalism since it requires that laborers, be they slaves, indentured servants, or wage laborers, get treated as commodities for production rather than as human beings. You could easily counter this claim by arguing that communism does the same thing. Thus that problem probably has more to do with the technology of industrialization than it does with whatever politico-economic system that utilizes it.

So as it stands according to Fernando Ortiz, tobacco is far superior to sugar when it comes to symbolically defining Cuba’s national identity.

I’ll be honest at this point. I have no emotional investment in this subject. I have no ancestral ties to Cuba, but I find the history and culture of the nation endlessly fascinating. I do appreciate sweet foods, but I gave up smoking long ago when I became wise enough to admit that I am afraid of getting cancer. So the argument over whether tobacco or sugar is more suitable for defining Cuba’s identity is of no importance to me. I could weigh the pros and cons of Ortiz’s reasoning, but I don’t feel its necessary to expend my mental energy on the matter. It reminds me of John Milton’s rhetorical argument that the moon is superior to the sun. But Milton’s essay on that matter is a great work of art. I’d say that Fernando Ortiz’s essay is a great work of art too. It is fascinating to read from beginning to end and, even if you don’t agree with his opinion, or even care all that much, it does say a lot about Cuban history and society. It certainly serves as a good introduction to anybody who wants to learn about tobacco or sugar cultivation and how it relates to Cuban culture.

Some of the ideas might be outdated though. Ortiz argues that tobacco is masculine and sugar is feminine in a way that relies on traditional gender stereotypes. Even considering those stereotypes, I find his reasoning on that point to be vague and insufficient to make his case. And his attempt at defining national character leads in the direction of essentializing in a way that would get labeled problematic by hyper-sensitive social theorists today. I have some problems with the concept of “essentializing” to beging with, but this is not the place to take that up. The use of outdated words like “Negro” “retarded”, and “Mongoloid” will also be jarring to some, but this essay was written in the 1940s when those words were considered neutral terminologies. Any offense you might naively take will also be undercut by that fact that Ortiz was a strong proponent of racial equality and the bulk of his work was done to document the cultural practices and patterns Afro-Cuban people. Hopefully someday more of his works will be translated into English.

The following essay in the book is of some interest up to a point. Ortiz examines the cultural uses of tobacco in pre- and post-contact indigenous societies. Although he starts by examining the practices of the Taino, Arawak, and Carib peoples, the scope extends farther into what we now call North, Central, and South America. The cultural uses of tobacco fall into four main categories being the social, the medicinal, the ritual/spiritual/religious/shamanistic, and the individual/leisure uses. He examines the history of how tobacco was ingested and the paraphernalia used as well as the social etiquette and praxis. He also examines whether or not tobacco was the only substance used in these ways. Various other writers have labeled tobacco and nicotine with contradictory terms like “stimulant”, “depressant” amd “hallucinogen”. Thus he analyzes evidence from colonial, missionary, archaeological, and pharmacological sources to figure out if some naive scholars in the past, not paying careful attention to details, mistakenly designated plants other than tobacco as tobacco. A lot of the essay is also devoted to disputes amongst anthropologists and archaeologists over what tools and paraphernalia were used for ingesting tobacco smoke and snuff. I feel like those debates are of more interest to specialists in this field and not so much for the general reader. His arguments aren’t hard to follow though and if you want to learn about the reasoning process and problem-solving methodologies in the social sciences, this is an accessible place to look.

The remaining essays are about the history of sugarcane cultivation and the effects of the Industrial Revolution on mass production and consumption of sugar. Again, these essays are well-researched and easy to follow, however, they feel more like filler than anything substantially related to the supposed main theme of the book which is Cuba and the importance of tobacco and sugarcane to its culture and economy. These filler essays stand on their own but stray too far outside the subject of Cuban national identity to be worthwhile in the larger context of the book. If you are solely interested in the subject of Cuban culture, you might want to consider reading the titular essay only and skipping the rest of the book. If you’re interested in the history of tobacco and sugar from a global perspective than the whole book will be of value. I fall into the former category, not the latter, so reading a lot of this felt like a chore even though all the essays are well-written.

Cuban Counterpoint was written at the end of World War II when the post-colonial era was taking off. Cuba was politically turbulent at the time, but it was also at the peak of its pre-Revolution cultural development. At that time the island nation was asserting itself internationally as a tourist destination and a producer of goods for international trade. In this context you can see how the subject of national identity and character could be of importance to a social scientist like Fernando Ortiz, especially considering his high academic stature then and now. Still, the book feels a bit dated. The negative health effects of smoking tobacco have caused it to be associated more with lung cancer than Cuba. Processed sugar is now associated with obesity, tooth decay, and other diseases. The tobacco and sugar industries plus communism should have made outsiders’ perceptions of Cuba inherently bad yet the country’s reputation is still alluring. Maybe it’s time for Cuba to choose a new symbol to redefine its national character. I’d choose their music to be a symbol of that identity if it were up to me (it’s not). Who couldn’t be enticed by those beautiful curvaceous women in tight skirts and stilleto heels defying the laws of gravity while dancing to mambo, rumba, charanga, salsa, cha cha cha, or Latin jazz. And if this book is dated, it still can evoke fantasies of sipping rum in a shack on a beach, palm trees swaying in the wind while clear waved waters wash ashore as you relax with a burning puro, its tip dipped in honey, while the silvery blue smoke you exhale disperses in the Caribbean breeze. If we lived in a just world, cigar smoke wouldn’t be harmful. But we don’t. Your dreams, however, won’t hurt you. Let those dreams keep you alive.

[Fran Faura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simplemente maravilloso. Reflexion cultural y sociológica sobre dos productos y la sociedad cubana. Simplemente no puede dejar de maravillarte, un ensayo literario al mismo tiempo que trata de jugar contigo a través de los sonidos.

[Indira · Rating 5 out of 5]

To think that this communist island once was a vibrant and beautiful island with a blooming economy. It truly baffles my mind to read of Cuba's amazing and historical industry. And now the country is not even close to what it once were. I have such an admiration and respect for Cuba after reading all of it's beginning and their first developments. The tobacco, coffee, and sugar industry or such remarkable and respectful products that only those who visit or purchase their products in another country to truly satisfy ones palate. I enjoyed reading of it's dates, history, and obstacles.

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

A lot of repetitions. All the main points were explained in Reinert's How Rich Countries Got Rich and Why Poor Countries Stay Poor. The essay could be more interesting for the economics majors, rather than just an inquiring reader.

[Daniela · Rating 3 out of 5]

contextualizada tendría más puntuación, pero no evita idealizar la sobre explotación que sufrían los cubanos (mestizos, esclavos, etc) para el azúcar y el tabaco

[Ileen · Rating 4 out of 5]

1940. Cuba.
Fernando Ortiz scrive questo fantastico libro (con introduzione dell’altissimo Malinowsky) per illustrare la sua teoria della Transculturacion (quando due culture vengono a contatto ci sono degli scambi che modificano entrambe). Utilizza il Contrappunto, ovvero il genere che si rifà alla Tenzone dove due artisti, generalmente cantori o poeti, si scambiano battute velocemente.
Il libro contrappone i due prodotti di Cuba: lo zucchero e il tabacco.
Li propone alternandoli e mettendoli in luce, in ombra, in luce, in ombra…
Lo zucchero è straniero, arriva dalle Indie; il tabacco è autoctono, eredità degli indios. Lo zucchero è bianco, tutto uguale, è figlio del lavoro degli schiavi neri; il tabacco è nero, ogni foglia è diversa ed è figlio del lavoro libero. Grandi piantagioni vs piccoli appezzamenti. Il rumore assordante della macchine nelle piantagioni contro il silenzio del laboratorio dove sia arrotola il tabacco…
Questo libro è davvero stupendo!
Fernando Ortiz fa un lavoro stupendo!
Lo consiglio a chi non conosce Cuba, ma soprattutto a chi la conosce…
Portatevi a casa un po’ della sua storia, della sua cultura

[Ranald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Meandering and written in a dated style of Spanish that is so interesting because it's presentation is like none you've seen in an English-language essay about the origins of the cash-crop economy in Cuba. I skipped many of its tedious pages but because it is such a classic, I gave it 4 stars.

[Gabriela Martínez]

Tengo que conseguirlo

[Jillian Marie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm Cuban-American and read this book for a class. Of all the novels I had to read for that class, this one is the most poetic.