Audio Intro & Theme Music
To paraphrase the great Frederick Douglas, What to the Garifuna and Afrodescendents Is the September 15? What is the meaning and significance, from the their point of view?
HOST : Mabuiga! Welcome back to another episode of The Garifuna Experience Podcast. I'm your host, José Francisco Ávila.
If you are tuning in this week, you know that September brings a familiar vibe across our neighborhoods. Last Sunday the 30th Annual Central American Independence Day Parade & Festival was celebrated up along Southern Boulevard and Boston Road Road in the Bronx. Celebrations took place in Los Angeles, New Orleans, Houston, Chicago and throughout Central America. Blue and white banners everywhere. Parades are mapped out, school pageants are rehearsed, and the speeches begin.
September 15th: Central American Independence Day. The day in 1821 when the Act of Independence of Central America was signed in Guatemala City, proclaiming independence from the Spanish Empire for Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. Oh yea, it also marks the beginning of National Hispanic Heritage Month in the U.S.
Segment 1: The Hook — Independence for Whom?
HOST: Every year, we hear the standard civic curriculum. We hear the names of the criollo elites (Gabino or Gavino Gaínza y Fernández de Medrano, Francisco Morazan, Jose Cecilio del Valle, etc.) the landowners, the clergy, the civic leaders who gathered in Guatemala City to draft a document that severed political ties with Madrid. In the classroom, that is presented as a clean, unified break toward liberty.
But history is rarely clean, and it was certainly not unified.
When you grow up on the Caribbean coast of Central America, in communities like, San Juan, Triunfo de la Cruz, Punta Piedra, Livingston, Dangriga, Orinoco or Bluefields, or when you grow up in the diaspora looking back through an Afro-descendant and Indigenous lens, you are forced to ask a fundamental question: Independence for whom?
When that document was signed in 1821, who actually gained sovereignty? For the landed criollo oligarchy, independence was primarily about keeping tax revenues at home, securing free trade, and consolidating local political power without paying tribute to the Spanish Crown.
For Indigenous populations across the interior, and for the Afro-descendant and Garifuna communities who had established thriving coastal settlements following the 1797 exile from Yurumein (St. Vincent), September 15th did not usher in universal emancipation. In many ways, it marked the beginning of a new chapter of vulnerability: transitioning from surviving an overseas colonial empire to navigating the borders, land grabs, and assimilation policies of newly formed nation-states.
So today, we are going beyond the bicentennial. We are not here to discard the pride people feel for their ancestral lands, far from it. We are here to bring the Caribbean coast of Central America into the center of the story, to look at the seafaring realities, and to examine what real sovereignty means for people whose history predates and transcends those 1821 borders.
[06:00 – 19:00] Segment 2: Historical Re-Evaluation — Autonomy, Maritime Trade, and the Nation-State
HOST: Let’s set the historical timeline properly. By 1821, the Garifuna people had already been on the Central American mainland for twenty-four years, having been exiled by the British from their homeland Yurumein to Roatán in April 1797 and quickly spreading across the Honduran, Guatemalan, and Nicaraguan coastlines, as well as into Belize.
During those early decades, our ancestors did not simply sit on the margins waiting for a republic to be declared. They built an autonomous maritime economy. They commanded coastal trade routes, built small boats that navigated treacherous waters between Belize, the Bay Islands, the mainland ports and the Caribbean countries, and provided essential labor and military skill.
When the independence wars and post-independence civil conflicts erupted, most notably the struggles between Francisco Morazán’s Federal Republic of Central America and conservative forces, the Garifuna were drawn into the center of these military upheavals. The Caribbean coast was not an isolated backwater; it was a strategic geopolitical theater, led by men like Juan Francisco Bulnes “Walumugu”, Marcos Sanchez Diaz, Alejo Beni and John Sambola.
Yet, when the Federal Republic collapsed and individual republics began codifying their national identities in the mid-to-late 19th century, what happened to the Caribbean coast of Central America?
The official state projects constructed an ideology of mestizaje, the myth that the national identity was exclusively a blend of Spanish and noble pre-Columbian Indigenous civilizations (usually idealized in the distant past), effectively erasing living Afro-descendant peoples and active Indigenous sovereignty. Our communities were treated as geographic extremities, valued for natural resources, banana plantations, and port access, but systematically excluded from political power, infrastructure investment, and equal citizenship.
Now, fast forward to today. That historical dynamic directly fuels the modern diaspora. When you starve a coast of schools, hospitals, and land title protections, people move.
First, our mariners took to merchant marine vessels. Then, beginning in the mid-20th century, entire generations migrated to New York, Boston, New Orleans, Los Angeles, Houston, Miami, and Chicago.
And that creates what I call the duality of transnational identity.
When a Garifuna-American marches in a Central American parade in New York City, what does that mean? On one hand, there is genuine love for the country where our parents and grandparents were born, the towns along the north coast of Honduras or the shores of Guatemala, Belize and Nicaragua. But on the other hand, there is an unwavering loyalty to an ancestral, trans-border nation that never stopped being Garifuna.
We live with dual citizenship not just on paper, but in our consciousness. We are navigating the civic realities of our neighborhoods here in the United States while remaining fiercely protective of our ancestral lands back home. The recent violent eviction of the Garífuna Community of San Juan in Honduras from their ancestral lands serves as an example, Garifuna advocates in the Diaspora mobilized to denounce the excessive use of force, arbitrary detentions, and criminalization of the community, and called on the Honduran State to comply with its international human rights obligations.
Segment 3: Dialogue & Impact — Grassroots Power and Breaking Erasure
HOST: This brings us directly to the work being done on the ground today.
How do we break the erasure that still happens in mainstream Latin American independence celebrations?
Too often, during September and into Hispanic Heritage Month, Latinidad is presented as a monolith. You see the traditional folkloric dresses from the central highlands, the standard mariachi or marimba routines, and speeches that assume every Latino looks a certain way, speaks only Spanish, and shares the exact same colonial history.
When you omit the Garifuna experience, or the Afro-Latino experience at large, you are telling millions of people that their contributions are secondary. You are erasing the fact that the Caribbean coast of Central America was built on the sweat, ingenuity, seafaring mastery, and resistance of Black and Indigenous hands.
This is why diaspora organizations, cultural coalitions, and community advocates are essential. For decades, community leaders here in New York and across the diaspora have fought to establish official recognitions, cultural heritage months, and school curricula that teach our children the whole truth.
It is about cultural sustainability across generations. When our young people grow up in Harlem, Brooklyn, the Bronx, or South Central Los Angeles, they are bombarded with conflicting identities. Society wants to put them in a single box: Are you Black, or are you Latino?
Our job is to teach them that they don’t have to choose. You can be unapologetically Black, authentically Indigenous to this hemisphere, proud of their Central American roots, and an active civic participant in their American city.
Diaspora organizations sustain this memory through language revitalization, music and dance academies, neighborhood walking tours, and direct policy advocacy, reminding governments both here and in Central America that our land rights and human rights are non-negotiable.
Segment 4: Essential Reading & Key Takeaways
HOST: As we wrap up today's episode, I want to leave you with three foundational points to reflect on this September 15th:
- True sovereignty is more than a signed document: Independence cannot be measured by a treaty signed by colonial elites if it does not protect the territorial and civil rights of the people living on the land for centuries.
- The coast is central, not peripheral: The Caribbean coast of Central America has always been an engine of regional commerce, resistance, and transnational connection.
- Reject the monolith: Whenever you encounter a cultural celebration that flattens our complexity, use your voice to ask where the Afro-descendant and Indigenous narratives are.
If you want to dig deeper into the historical mechanics of what we discussed today, I strongly recommend adding these works to your reading list:
- Dr. Joseph Palacio’s The Garifuna, A nation across borders: Essays in Social Anthropology, a collection of essays exploring the history, culture, and identity of the Garifuna people across multiple nations. Covering topics like oral history, music, spirituality, and UNESCO’s recognition of Garifuna heritage, the book highlights their resilience and challenges in preserving their traditions amid migration and modernization.
- Dr. Nancie L. González’s classic ethnohistory, Sojourners of the Caribbean: Ethnogenesis and Ethnohistory of the Garifuna, which provides vital documentation of our movement across Central America.
- Dr. Mark Anderson’s Black and Indigenous: Garifuna Activism and Consumer Culture in Honduras, which breaks down the modern politics of race, recognition, and statehood.
- Jose Francisco Avila’s Pan-Garifuna Afro-Latino Power of Pride: My Quest for Racial, Ancestral, Ethnic and Cultural Identity. The author's personal journey to reconcile his multiracial heritage after facing rejection from both white and Black communities.
- For broader context on regional history, explore essays on the Garifuna role in the Central American wars of the 1820s and 1830s, particularly the research documented by historical scholars in Central America on the Royalist-Republican divides.
- Listen to Episodes: Episode 12 - Hispanic Heritage Month and the Garifuna Diaspora, and Episode 13 - Garifunas and the Central America Independence Revolutions,
Outro & Credits
HOST: History belongs to those who tell it, preserve it, and live it. Don’t let anyone tell you that your story started in 1821, and don’t let anyone tell you your voice doesn’t belong at the table.
To paraphrase Frederick Douglas once again, September 15 celebration is a sham, an unholy license, and a hollow mockery to Garifuna and Afrodescendent people who are denied basic human rights while the nation rejoices in liberty. Think about the violent eviction of the Garífuna Community of San Juan in Honduras from their ancestral landsa and ask the fundamental question: Independence for whom?
HOST: And that wraps up another illuminating episode of The Garifuna Experience Podcast.
Thank you for listening. Remember: The future of the Garifuna people is in our hands.
Until next time, stay united, stay proud. Sungubei Lidan Aban. Ayo!
HOST: Find new episodes of The Garifuna Experience Podcast every Tuesday on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Podcasts, YouTube, Amazon Music, or wherever you find your favorite shows.
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