“I HOPE THEY DON’T COME TO PLAINS”: RACE AND THE DETENTION OF MARIEL CUBANS, 1980-1981 by ALEXANDER MAXWELL STEPHENS (Under the Direction of Bethany E. Moreton) ABSTRACT In 1980, roughly 125,000 Cubans sailed to the United States in a mass migration that became known as the Mariel boatlift. Labeled "scum" by Fidel Castro, many of the Cubans who crossed the Straits of Florida found themselves stigmatized again in the United States, as rumors spread that their government used the boatlift to empty its prisons and mental institutions. Criminalized and caught in the middle of a changing U.S. refugee policy, tens of thousands of Mariel migrants were sent to makeshift detention centers on military bases. Black and mulato Cubans made up a disproportionate number of the people confined to these carceral spaces. Although scholars have been critical of the stigmatization and detention of people from Mariel, few have explored fully the ways that race shaped this process. This thesis analyzes the various forms of power that contributed to the racialized consequences of the boatlift. INDEX WORDS: Mariel boatlift, International migration, Detention, Incarceration, Refugee policy, Race, Cuba, United States “I HOPE THEY DON’T COME TO PLAINS”: RACE AND THE DETENTION OF MARIEL CUBANS, 1980-1981 by ALEXANDER MAXWELL STEPHENS BA, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2010 A Thesis Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of The University of Georgia in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree MASTER OF ARTS ATHENS, GEORGIA 2016 © 2016 Alexander Maxwell Stephens All Rights Reserved “I HOPE THEY DON’T COME TO PLAINS”: RACE AND THE DETENTION OF MARIEL CUBANS, 1980-1981 by ALEXANDER MAXWELL STEPHENS Major Professor: Bethany E. Moreton Committee: Reinaldo L. Román Steven C. Soper Electronic Version Approved: Suzanne Barbour Dean of the Graduate School The University of Georgia May 2016 A 1980 exodus of a hundred and twenty-five thousand dreams, A quest to find out what freedom really means at any cost, Boatloads of Cubans lost in a maze of red tape, and hate. --Will Da Real One, El Mariel iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS As with any piece of writing, this thesis is the result of countless contributions from other people, and I will not be able to recognize all them here. I do want to use this opportunity to thank a few friends and mentors. Bethany Moreton encouraged me to pursue this subject from the moment I mentioned it to her and she was gracious enough to stay on as my advisor, even as she faced multiple moves and new responsibilities in new places. Her consistent guidance, incisive comments, and unwavering public commitments have made her an ideal mentor. Reinaldo Román kept his door open throughout this process and, despite his many responsibilities as Director of Graduate Studies, always took time to sit with me and help me wrestle with my questions about race and history in the U.S. and Cuba. His brilliance is exceeded only by his modesty, and if I have managed to convey anything significant about the nature of race-in-motion around the Caribbean, it is because of him. Steve Soper offered encouragement and gentle critiques that transcended the spatial and temporal boundaries often observed within the discipline. His presence on my committee gave me confidence to undertake the task of writing a fine-grained account of a relatively small group of incarcerated people in order to learn about something larger. His generosity as a reader is beyond compare, and I have done my best to integrate as many of his sharp insights as possible. Although Jamie Kreiner was not officially a member of my committee, she might as well have been. Her close reading of my work pushed me to find ways to convey ideas more precisely, and our many conversations were essential to this project. I am grateful to her for her v friendship and for opening my eyes to the vast array of possible ways to think and write about history. Dan Rood took an interest in my intellectual development early in my first semester, and our conversations created a foundation for this project. He pushed me to think more critically about race and political economy in the Americas and, while I have just begun to explore this literature, he reinforced the importance of reading and listening to the people who ‘know’ racial capitalism because they have borne its weight. Steve Berry, in his seminar and in the time he spent helping me talk through this project, pushed me to think more deeply about the human stories that make up this history. His insistence on striving to tell these stories beautifully will remain an impetus for improving my writing. Likewise, when I was considering applying to graduate school, Christopher Lawton reminded me that historians are storytellers. His camaraderie and advice throughout the past several years have been invaluable in more ways than I can mention here. Finally, although he will likely deny any involvement if questioned about it, Jim Cobb left his mark on this thesis. His raised eyebrow and I became well-acquainted during his final Southern History colloquium at UGA. Although some might not see this as a “southern history” project, Dr. Cobb’s dedication to reimagining and reshaping the field throughout his career gave me the confidence to claim it as such. I will always admire and seek to emulate his commitment to finding and telling truths about the place that he loves. My friends and fellow graduate students at UGA have read drafts of my work and provided crucial feedback. My cohort—Kiersten Rom, Nicole Gallucci, Kate Dahlstrand, and Michele Johnson—consists of some of the brightest, funniest, and kindest people I know. Kiersten has been my friend, confidant, and good-natured critic for three years, willing to tell me when I was being ridiculous and always quick to share a laugh or lend encouragement. Nicole is a tremendous scholar and an incredibly generous friend. She never stopped me when I turned vi around in the office to tell her something about the Mariel boatlift, or a Pitbull music video, or anything else, and for that I will always be grateful. As I started the graduate program, Ashton Ellett quickly became a guide to the department. Since then, he has become a friend who keeps me on my toes, helps me maintain my sanity, and reminds me why we are in this line of work. My family instilled in me commitments to doing things well and to working for a more just world, which continue to drive everything I do. They have put up with me during my lowest points, understood when I was not around, and celebrated when the time was right. This thesis would not have been written without their love and support. Much and more can and should be said about Marcela Reales Visbal. Her endless patience and understanding are matched only by her intellect and selflessness. She listened to every thought I ever had about this thesis and she never refused to engage with me in conversations about the ideas swirling around inside my head. Nobody contributed to this project more than she did, which I hesitate to admit only because of how small and imperfect the result is. The flaws in what is written here reflect nothing but my own limitations. Lastly, I want to express my gratitude to Della Pollock, Hudson Vaughan, and all the mentors and friends at the Jackson Center and around Northside who led me down the path I am walking. They taught me how to feel history, deeply, and to see its everyday ways. I owe a particular debt to Ms. Keith Edwards. Her willingness to struggle against seemingly impossible odds keeps my own challenges in perspective. Her example encourages me to fight, and not just for myself. The people whose stories are at the center of this thesis were searching for home; Ms. Keith taught me what it means to find it. vii TABLE OF CONTENTS Page ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS .............................................................................................................v CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION .........................................................................................................1 2 “JUST A BUNCH OF CRIMINALS” .........................................................................20 3 “THE HOLY AND SACRED LAND OF FREEDOM CITY” ...................................49 4 “TO THINK THAT SOME REFUGEES ARE BETTER THAN OTHER REFUGEES”................................................................................................................82 5 CONCLUSION ..........................................................................................................115 BIBLIOGRAPHY ........................................................................................................................121 viii CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION “¡Que se vayan!” was the repeated roar of the crowd that gathered in Havana on May 1, 1980. Their refrain punctuated Fidel Castro’s annual address with an emphatic message: good riddance. The audience listened to Castro discredit the tens of thousands of Cubans who were seeking to leave the island at the time. He called the aspiring emigrants “scum” and “lumpen.” They were enemies of Cuban socialism. They would not be missed.1 People in the U.S. were not as certain what to call the roughly 125,000 people who voyaged across the Straits of Florida in the span of just a few months. Initial press coverage consisted mainly of portraits of people who joined the “Freedom Flotilla” to reunite with family members in Florida. It was easy for many in the U.S. to celebrate people they saw as dissidents from the land of Fidel Castro, the