Introduction: Latin American diasporas: common origins and different paths.

Armony, Victor

This issue gathers contributions from Canada, Israel, and Spain regarding the integration of Latin Americans in those countries. Most studies on Latin American migrants focus on population movements within Latin America or, particularly in the English-language scholarly literature, on their migration towards the United States. Not surprisingly, it is mostly in the latter context that the idea of a Latin American diaspora has drawn the attention of researchers, and that the emergence of a pan-ethnic identity in exile has been proposed and discussed. The term "Latino" --as it refers to a relatively well-defined population subset--is directly connected to the U.S. reality and it reflects historically rooted understandings of ethnicity and minority self-identification and categorization in that country. However, the often-overlooked notion that a Latin American diasporic construction can take place in other host societies is certainly worth exploring. Outside the United States, Latin Americans have settled in many regions of the world, but they have created certain migration corridors that are particularly significant, in that they are establishing distinct realities--through an emerging sense of community and by means of shared experiences and aspirations. Latin Americans in Canada, in Israel, and in Spain can claim a common origin, but their "Latino-ness" will probably take different shapes as they become part and parcel of each host society: being Latin American in French (in Quebec) or in Hebrew is different from being Latin American in English or in Spanish. Canada, Israel, and Spain are all countries of immigration, but their respective models of diversity-management, the volume and configuration of their immigrant intake, and their political and socioeconomic environment, not to mention the linguistic and cultural framework, create diverging patterns of integration and minority/majority relations.

But if each receiving society will foster different ways of carrying and reinterpreting a Latin American heritage, can we actually consider this heritage as a common trait of all or most Latin Americans, be they migrants or not? Indeed, Latin America includes at least twenty nation-states that, because of their colonial origins, reflect in their institutions and societal organization--albeit in many different ways--a worldview with roots in the Southern European tradition, that of the Greco-Roman world, the Italian Renaissance, the Counter-Reformation, and the Iberian absolutist social order. However, such shared past does not preclude a debate about which countries should be covered by the label "Latin America." Some expansive definitions will encompass the whole hemisphere with the exception of Canada, the United States, and the dependencies and territories belonging to European countries (that is, the geopolitically-driven approach favored by CELAC, the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States created in 2011). Other more restrictive definitions will focus on language (Spanish or Portuguese) or on the "Hispanic" legacy, thus excluding Brazil from the cluster. Geography also is occasionally a factor: Mexico would be a "North American" country, thus outside the realm of a "Latin America" spreading over South and Central America. Is Haiti part of Latin America? Even Cuba's place is ambiguous, as the Caribbean is usually seen as a distinct area.

It goes without saying that the colonial experience in the Americas involved an extraordinary process of ethnic mixing, cultural amalgamation, and ideological construction, and that the indigenous populations contributed decisively to the process of nation-building, although from a highly subordinate position. But no characterization of Latin America's historical foundations supposes the existence of a monolithically unified civic culture throughout the region or within each country, for that matter. In fact, many studies show the presence of both unique cultural orientations, and the existence of diverging values and attitudes between regions and between social groups. But, even if all Latin Americans are not necessarily aware of the specific components of their collective distinctiveness, many do have a resilient consciousness of a common connection that transcends national borders. Not only has there been a strong supra-national Latin American project during the Independence Wars--best incarnated by Simon Bolivar's dream--, but also the rhetoric about "Latin American unity" remains a significant part of every patriotic discourse in the region (both fueled by the imaginary of a "New World" utopia and by anti-U.S. sentiments). It is a sociological fact that identities are constructs that stem from complex processes involving power relations and, to some extent, symbolic or even physical violence. A rising awareness of such dynamic has led to multiple expressions of contention within minority groups: gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and social class articulate new voices and claims that challenge long-standing, top-down, dominant identities. But if the so-called "Latin American identity" is just an artifact that conveys a state-sanctioned, European-inspired, male, urban, middle-class worldview, thus hiding and silencing a myriad of alternative ways of being Latin American--those of Latin American women, Latin American indigenous peoples, Afro-Latin Americans, Latin American peasants, Latin American LGBTs, etc.--what purpose is served by speaking of Latin American migrants as a group in a given host society?

That question is legitimate, and no answer is fully satisfactory. However, it is hard to dismiss the well-documented fact that many Latin Americans consistently express a strong sense of belonging to a larger community across nationalities, and that, in immigration settings, they may question and give new meanings to that self-identification, but they nevertheless tend to show a persistent attachment to their cultural background. It is not less relevant to that enduring heritage that diasporic Latin Americans regularly come to be defined by preexisting ethnic categories, as well as by similar experiences stemming from their socioeconomic (and sometimes political) status in the host society. In other words, even if immigrants choose not to self-recognize as Latin American, chances are that they will be find themselves standing among other Latin Americans in terms of their life conditions. If that is indeed the case, studying Latin Americans residing outside Latin America will provide important clues about that complex reality. And, in this regard, it is crucial to explore how objective and subjective processes play out in different national and cultural locations, and also to avoid undue extrapolations from one country to another (particularly given the United States' vast predominance in all things said and published on Latin America and Latinos). While dressing a portrait of Latin Americans in Canada--taking into account Quebec's very distinct context--, my contribution to this special issue tackles these and other questions regarding this rapidly growing population. I provide abundant statistical data, I discuss the ways in which Latin Americans are categorized and how they self-identify in Canada, and I focus on Latin Americans' cultural attitudes and values in a Quebec-rest of Canada comparative perspective.

In another article from Canada, Tanya Basok, Alan Hall, and Eloy Rivas address the issue of how immigrants learn, interpret, and redefine the meaning of citizenship in a new country. They focus on the under-reporting of workplace injuries and hazards among Latin American immigrants in Southwestern Ontario in order to shed light on the extent to which these workers fail to exercise their rights and, ultimately, to assert their citizenship. The authors argue that whether these workers report injuries and unhealthy working conditions is influenced by their knowledge of workers' rights, by their subjective assessment of their ability to assert these rights, and by their ethnic identities. As most workers in non-union, low-wage, temporary or part-time jobs, they find themselves in a context where several factors (most notably, their vulnerability to employer discipline or reprisal) limit or contradict the full sense of citizenship to which they are entitled. Other hurdles linked to their immigrant status--lack of knowledge and experience in Canada, and language barriers--can also explain differences in behavior, particularly when compared to Canadian-born workers. But the authors observed another factor at play: "most Latin American immigrants see their cultural and/or home country heritage as shaping an acceptance of risk, hazards and injuries in ways that distinguish them from Canadian-born workers." They seem to frame their self-image through the stereotype of "Latinos as hard workers," who are willing to accept harsher conditions--and while this perception clearly prevails among males, many Latin American female workers hold such a view too. In other words, as the authors point out, "their heritage continues to shape the way they think and act."

In a third article from Canada, Morgan Poteet and Alan Simmons report findings from a study of high school completion goals and friendship networks among Central American-origin male youths in Toronto. The authors remind us that the immigrant population from Central America in Canada arrived mainly as refugees from El Salvador and Guatemala who fled civil wars taking place in the region during the 1980s and 1990s. Given such family background, it may not surprise us that Central American youth in Toronto display below-average performance and a higher-than-average dropout rate. But they also had to confront negative stereotypes as "Latinos" (e.g., "troublemakers" at school) and, in that regard, the authors underline the need to examine how these youths develop an ethno-social identity in the wake of "systemic forces shaping schooling goals." However, Poteet and Simmons warn that most studies covering Latin Americans tend to focus on how their low-average schooling performance is related to attributes such as ethnicity, race, gender, and the level of parental schooling, while few of them take into account social-relations processes (i.e., friendships and social networks) leading to such outcomes. In other words, identities and heritage do play a role, not as passive, static, overburdening traits in a given population, but as significant factors in fostering self-awareness and personal strategies among individuals regarding their "risks of marginalization and their options to reduce these risks."

Rebeca Raijman and Ariane Ophir's article addresses the economic integration of Latin American immigrants arriving in Israel under the provisions of the Law of Return (which applies to all individuals of Jewish ancestry or faith). The authors point out that, in contrast to immigrants from Asian and African countries after 1948 or the massive waves from the former Soviet Union during the 1990s, Latin American immigration to that country was a "cumulative rather than an abrupt process." Focusing on three indicators to assess different dimensions of economic integration (participation in the labor force, occupational attainment, and income/ education status), they conclude that "the economic integration of Latin Americans into Israeli society does not seem to be in question," and that "Latin American immigrants enjoy a relatively advantageous position in the Israeli labor market." They do better than most other immigrant groups, but not as well as immigrants from English-speaking countries (notably, North America, Australia, and South Africa) and from Western Europe. The authors argue that Latin Americans are placed in an intermediate position within the (Jewish) "ethnic hierarchy" in Israel. While they "do not display patterns of residential concentration and are dispersed into mixed communities," immigrants from Latin America "have created a wide variety of social, religious, economic and professional institutions" that aim at helping and supporting newcomers from that region. Latin Americans in Israel do not experience the effect of a "subordinate" ethnic categorization (as they are generally perceived as part of the dominant majority: Ashkenazi Jews), but they seem to maintain some degree of attachment to their (mostly South American) cultural background. Although Raijman and Ophir's article does not deal with the specific issue of self-identification, their article certainly raises some fascinating questions in this regard.

Finally, Antonio Izquierdo Escribano and Raquel Martinez-Bujan's article examines the sudden rise of Latin American immigration towards Spain between 2000 and 2013 and the reasons why this group stayed in that country "despite the intensity of its economic crisis and the mass destruction of employment." The obvious historic and cultural proximity between Latin America (or more precisely, Spanish-speaking America) and Spain underlies what the authors call a "political and cultural preference" shown by Spaniards towards Latin American immigrants, a proclivity that has led to the adoption of legislative measures best described as delivering "positive discrimination" to that particular group (while immigrants from other areas, notably Africa, do not enjoy the same access to regularization and naturalization "privileges"). However, interestingly enough, Spain's social acceptance of Latin American immigrants, as well as the relatively laxer residency-granting procedures offered to them, do not necessarily translate into economic inclusion. The authors suggest that "sociocultural convenience" explains the apparent openness of Spaniards to Latin American immigrants (particularly to women in the field of care services), but that preference (over other immigrant groups) hardly implies an egalitarian pattern of integration, as those immigrants are consistently geared toward low-wage, seasonal, sometimes informal employment (generally in domestic work, construction, and agriculture).

Evidently, given the diversity of topics and approaches in the articles, the goal of this special issue on Latin American diasporas outside the United States--with special attention given to the Canadian case--is not to establish a comparison among different national contexts. It can actually be argued that any such comparison would be unwarranted, as each one is extremely different from the others: Canada is a dual reality (English and French, a division that goes much further than language) both strongly influenced by, and (on several aspects) clearly (and some would say deliberately) distinct from its North American neighbor; Spain is the former colonial ruler of all Spanish-speaking countries in the Americas, with all the profound implications that this bond may carry; and Israel welcomes substantial numbers of Jewish Latin American immigrants who were themselves a minority in their countries of origin, producing a rich, multi-layered process of ethnic differentiation and amalgamation. Two of the key questions that are implicit in all of the articles in this issue, and in any analysis of Latin American migration outside Latin America are: What does it mean to be identified, first, as "Latin American" and, second, as a "Latin American immigrant"?; and: In what ways does being identified as "Latin American" or a "Latin American immigrant" affect the process of integration into the host society? A third question could be added, even though its scope is more normative: What could or should be done in order to strengthen a global Latin American identity--if such a goal is desirable to Latin Americans? These questions are all but impossible to answer in a comprehensive and definite manner, of course, but I am convinced that this special issue is a valuable contribution to the necessary discussion about them.

I would like to thank the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council for its funding, which supported in part the publication of this issue. I would also like to thank the Canadian Ethnic Studies editors, Lloyd Wong and Shibao Guo, the journal's editorial assistant, Claire Hutchinson, and the anonymous readers who participated in the peer-review process.

Victor Armony--Special Guest Editor