How Soul Music Became the Heartbeat of the Panama Canal Diggers` Descendants
Trump's recent declaration to take back the Panama Canal brings to light the forgotten sacrifices of Afro-Caribbean workers - and the legacy of U.S. imperialism in the region.
When Donald Trump informed the world of his plans to make America great again by “taking back” the Panama Canal during his inaugural address on January 20, 2025, he evoked memories of President Teddy (not Franklin) Roosevelt who is considered to be one of the founding fathers of U.S. imperialism due to his early 20th century “Big Stick Diplomacy”. It was Roosevelt who had enforced the construction of the Panama Canal as a keystone of his foreign policy agenda to assert control over the region and increase the military and economic power of the United States on a global level. To affirm his claim that the canal rightfully belonged to the United States, Trump also mentioned the “38.000 lives” that were lost in the building of the megaproject. It is safe to say that Trump does not care about the exact number of workers who died building the canal or about the actual people who lost their lives in this monumental undertaking (according to a recent fact check by the BBC, there were roughly 6,000 victims, of whom 300 were US citizens). However, he inadvertently cast a spotlight on an often-forgotten chapter of black history and its inter-American dimensions.
“So it was not U.S. citizens but primarily these Afro-Caribbean labor migrants that fell victim to unsafe working conditions, explosions of dynamite charges, landslides and tropical diseases.”
After Roosevelt’s envoys negotiated an agreement in 1903 that promised the province of Panama military support for its independence from Colombia in return for the right of the United States to build and control a canal that connected the Pacific with the Caribbean, the US government urgently needed labor. Between 1904 and 1914, up to 200.000 black migrant workers from Caribbean islands such as Barbados and Jamaica (then British colonies), were contracted to build the canal. The so-called “diggers” carried out the most demanding and dangerous tasks of the project that marked a major step on the United States´ path to becoming a global superpower. So it was not U.S. citizens but primarily these Afro-Caribbean labor migrants that fell victim to unsafe working conditions, explosions of dynamite charges, landslides and tropical diseases.
Although it might be argued that both the Panama Canal and the Republic of Panama owe their existence to the work of the diggers, they have not received due recognition by both involved nation-states to date. Whereas many of these workers continued their migratory journey from Panama to the United States, others stayed, establishing Central America´s most significant Afro-Caribbean community “between a rock and a hard place”. While they faced US deep south-style racial segregation in the quasi-colonial Canal Zone, the black, English-speaking, protestant immigrants were treated as “undesired aliens” (as President Arnulfo Arias labelled them in a Trumpian decree of 1941) in the surrounding Panamanian republic, led by an elite that was eager to construct a national identity based on Hispanic and Catholic traditions, and whiteness.
Confronted with discrimination and exclusion in Panama and the Canal Zone, the global wave of youth rebellions and anti-colonial uprisings that shaped the 1960s didn´t go unnoticed among the diggers´ descendants. Direct contact with African American GIs stationed at the military bases in the canal zone, and shared experiences of racism contributed to a sense of connectedness with the U.S. black freedom struggle among Afro-Caribbean Panamanians. When news of civil rights protests, sit-ins and demonstrations from places like Montgomery, Selma, and Birmingham transpired in Panama, the country´s Afro-Caribbean youth identified, linking these events to their own daily struggles for freedom and equality.
“The dynamic sounds of soul (and funk) embodied black resilience, solidarity and success in the face of racial segregation and an entrenched system of white supremacy. ”
What made this movement especially attractive was that it came with a soundtrack: soul music. To many, the voices of Diana Ross, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, and, of course, James Brown that were broadcasted by the radio stations of the US Army in the Canal Zone, signaled the beginning of a new era, not only for African Americans in the United States but for black people across the Americas. The dynamic sounds of soul (and funk) embodied black resilience, solidarity and success in the face of racial segregation and an entrenched system of white supremacy. When James Brown released the Black Power anthem “Say It loud – I´m Black and I´m Proud” in 1968, it not only became an instant hit between Harlem and Watts, but also between Panama City and Colón, the Caribbean gateway to the Canal where the daily arrival of ships ensured a constant supply of the latest records from the U.S. and elsewhere.
“The Diggers Descendants” is the name of a contemporary calypso band that celebrates Panama’s Afro-Caribbean heritage. The band includes Carlos Brown and Stanley Boxill, both former members of Los Dinámicos Exciters, the vanguard of Panamanian soul in the 1960s and 1970s.
In the late 1960s, Colón, with its cosmopolitan nightlife, where Afro-Caribbean locals interacted with GIs stationed at the US military bases and sailors on shore leave, became the hotbed of a vibrant Panamanian soul scene. Continuing a long tradition of Afro-Panamanian dialogues with African American genres such as jazz, doo-wop, and R&B, a new generation of local musicians combined calypso and Afro-Latin styles with soul and funk, creating a unique sound that embodied the role of Panama as a hemispheric crossroads between the Caribbean, Latin America and the United States. Translating the idiom of soul and the related Afro aesthetics into the Panamanian context, combos nacionales such as Los Dinámicos Exciters, Los Fabulosos Festivals, and Los Soul Fantastic gained cross-racial popularity challenging official identity discourses that portrayed Panama as a homogenous nation based on Hispanic heritage and European traditions.
“The rise of the combos as an expression of border-crossing dialogues between Afro-Panamanians and African American in the Black Power era coincided with a much more conflictive chapter in US-Panamanian relations”
The rise of the combos as an expression of border-crossing dialogues between Afro-Panamanians and African American in the Black Power era coincided with a much more conflictive chapter in US-Panamanian relations that ultimately led to what Donald Trump just denounced as a bad deal. Driven by a wave of Panamanian nationalism, a strong movement to end US control over the Panama Canal materialized when populist General Omar Torrijos gained power in 1969. Disproving their alleged lack of loyalty to the country they called home, despite of everything, many of the grandchildren of those who had come from the Caribbean to Panama to build the Canal, supported Torrijos´ agenda to finish the presence of the US government that had contracted them decades before, only to treat them as second-class citizens. While anxious about expressions of Black Power in Panama, Torrijos enlisted Afro-Caribbean support for his campaign, giving government posts to black Panamanians and increased visibility to the combos nacionales.
“While Trump is trying to turn back history, the conditions for a resurrection of the cross-border coalitions that shaped the 1960s and 1970s appear unfavorable, but more necessary than ever.”
Not least due to the lobbying of Afro-Panamanians living in the United States who entertained close relations with African American politicians such as Jesse Jackson and the Democratic Black Caucus, the campaign succeeded in 1977, when President Jimmy Carter agreed with Torrijos to grant Panama control over the Canal in 1999. While Trump is trying to turn back history, the conditions for a resurrection of the cross-border coalitions that shaped the 1960s and 1970s appear unfavorable, but more necessary than ever.
