This is a timely and data-rich work that joins a growing literature on race and ideology in Cuba and on the politics of racial solidarity more generally. Danielle Pilar Clealand’s main contribution is not just to show that Cuban racial democracy is a myth (that rhetoric and reality do not match) but to outline empirically, with original survey and interview data, “precisely how racial democracy functions and is so effective in Cuba” such that black consciousness of racial discrimination can exist alongside racial ideology but also, at times, challenge it (p. 4). She argues that the ideology of racial democracy, in conjunction with socialist ideology, exerts a powerful influence, not just over white Cubans but also over black Cubans, in spite of their firsthand experiences and awareness of institutionalized and systemic racial discrimination that contradict that ideology. At the same time, racial ideology in Cuba “can be challenged and embraced simultaneously,” and “racial consciousness cannot be defined in dichotomous terms” (p. 198).

In the first part of the book, Clealand shows how racial ideology or racial democracy has served throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to silence discussion of institutional and structural racism, hide its existence, and further the illusion either of racial equality and/or black inferiority. This ideology or set of norms emphasizes national identity and unity over racial identity, denies the existence of structural racial hierarchies, and reduces racism to individual prejudice. While the 1959 Cuban Revolution did not introduce this racial ideology to Cuba, and the revolution’s socioeconomic changes benefited many black Cubans, the revolution also silenced discussion of race by outlawing political organizing around racial identity and declaring racism a thing of the past that the government had largely abolished, and which remained only in the form of individual attitudes. Clealand argues, however, that unlike the rest of Latin America where this ideology also operates, Cuba’s socialism actually works to reinforce racial ideology by privileging national identity and supposedly color-blind socioeconomic justice concerns.

The book’s main contributions can be found in the second half where the author illustrates, through a wide array of survey data and interviews, how black, mulato, and white Cubans view racial ideology. She focuses primarily on black Cubans and their experience with and awareness of the multiple ways in which racism works to deny economic, political, and social opportunities to black Cubans in almost all spheres of Cuban life. This awareness, her data show, does not necessarily undermine racial ideology. For instance, the accepted norm of anti-racialism—the idea that talking about race or racism is racist—actually functions to support and excuse racist words and actions. While a majority of black Cubans say they have experienced discrimination in employment, education, and other areas, Clealand’s interviews show that many still understand racism as individual and attitudinal. This she attributes to the power of the rhetoric of equal opportunity, whereby even discrimination may be understood as a result of individual failings. While many black Cubans identify as black, a majority still see their national identity as more important than their black identity. Indeed, even the racialized hardships and heightened discrimination suffered by black Cubans during the post-Soviet period of economic crisis (the “Special Period in Times of Peace”) did not fundamentally undermine the ideology of racial democracy, though the starkness of long-existing racial inequalities along with some relative political opening did mean that those experiencing them questioned its legitimacy. Drawing on James Scott’s categories of public and private transcripts (Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts, 1992), Clealand argues that privately, black Cubans are far more critical of this racial ideology, thereby showing cracks in its edifice. With greater political opening, she argues, such views have been and will presumably be increasingly aired more publicly.

The value of this book is that it shows, rather than presumes, how racial ideology both informs and is undermined by black consciousness in Cuba. While not all of the information will necessarily be surprising to those who have read on the topic or spent time in Cuba, it provides firsthand accounts and empirical evidence of how black Cubans make sense of the disjuncture between rhetoric and reality. The book also raises a number of issues:

Clealand argues that racial democracy is reinforced by socialism’s rhetoric of equal opportunity. However, it is also the case that equal opportunity is a fundamental tenet of liberalism, whereas socialism tends to emphasize equality of outcomes and not just leveling the playing field. Given that the myth of racial democracy remains in force throughout Latin America, does racial ideology in Cuba always or necessarily work with socialism to silence discussion of race? This is particularly relevant if Cuban socialism is not simply reduced to government rhetoric and policy. Black Cuban intellectual Walterio Carbonell used a historical materialist approach to emphasize the fundamental role played by African culture and people in the development of national (socialist) culture. Similarly, take the example of the Cuban hip-hop artists who the author cites as evidence of growing black consciousness. As she notes, they have insisted upon their identities as revolutionaries, but this may not be entirely reducible to strategic maneuvering in the context of a one-party state, and instead could be seen as a belief that socialism is compatible with black liberation. In a similar vein, what of Cuban internationalism and solidarity? Did it always function as a smokescreen for more problematic race politics at home, or did it function to influence racial consciousness as well? For instance, the presence of exiled Black Panthers in Cuba has had a significant influence on black consciousness on the island, but these exiles have also found a different terrain—one that is both more and less hostile than the United States—in which to articulate their views.

The book suggests that the dominant racial ideology in Cuba always tempers racial solidarity and race-based claims. Other scholars have argued that this ideology has functioned differently throughout Cuban history, at times reinforcing race-based demands and at other times squelching them. This leads to several questions. May it not be the case that some black Cubans’ embrace of racial ideology is not a form of false consciousness but, instead, either a strategic decision and/or an ideal in which they believe in spite of its failure to manifest in reality? Indeed, James Scott’s framework of “hidden transcripts” critiques theories of hegemony and/or false consciousness. For Scott, an alternative ideology need not exist in order for significant uprisings and challenges to the status quo to take place. Clearly Cuba’s state apparatus makes political action difficult and dangerous, but this begs the question of what the power and force of racial ideology is. In other words, is it the ideology itself, or the state monopoly on education, media, and culture? What accounts for an alternative black consciousness that Clealand says was strengthened during the Special Period? Has the severity of the disjuncture between rhetoric and reality, along with some political opening, only produced positive changes in black consciousness?

In short, while The Power of Race in Cuba aims to represent black Cubans’ complex negotiations with racial ideology, this is not always fully realized. What is less developed is an account of how racial ideology, and ideology more generally, operates. At times it appears that the author’s conclusion is that greater political opening would enable the dominant racial ideology to be challenged more effectively, and yet the theorists she uses, from Althusser to Scott, suggest that ideology is almost impossible to stand outside of, even in liberal democracies. Race-based organizing and claims would be easier, but this might not necessarily require or lead to an entirely different racial ideology.