Palmares and Afro-Brazilian Resistance

What was the significance of Palmares for Afro-Brazilian resistance in the colonial period?

The Palmares, or Quilombo dos Palmares, was a community primarily founded by runaway African slaves in colonial Brazil during the early 1600s. Palmares was a long-lasting and significant quilombo that resisted Portuguese and Dutch attempts at subjugation for nearly a century and posed a considerable threat to the slave-based colonial system. Despite being one of many quilombo communities across the colony, Palmares and its contribution to the sociopolitical fabric of Afro-Brazilian life makes it an essential case study of enslaved resistance under Portuguese colonial rule. The actions of the Palmares communities undoubtedly redefined how historians view Afro-Brazilian sovereignty. Palmares successfully pushed a narrative of agency for Afro-Brazilians through its emphasis on an intertwined political and religious sovereignty, and a focus on both trade and warfare with colonial forces.

As explorers and chroniclers uncovered more information about the Palmares community, it became clear that there existed a unique political system founded on African traditions and anti-colonial values. Rather than simply being an offshoot of colonial society replicated by runaway slaves, the Palmares community showcased the possibility for Afro-Brazilians to legislate according to their own beliefs and political ideas, especially when contrasted with their colonial counterparts. Historians note the significance of Palmares being a diverse community, writing that “Though these people came from innumerable cultures, including African, Native American, and European, they developed a religion, language, values, and government that suited their unique needs” (Cheney 3). In fact, evidence points to a successful Palmares community even in times of colonial disorder, as “Palmares thrived while the colony on the coast struggled against disease, corruption, and the inefficiencies of an autocratic, hierarchical government” (Cheney 11). The notion that the Palmares thrived independently without the same colonial powers that subjugated them emphasizes the importance of the community for displaying the potential for Afro-Brazilian self-governance. The significance of this success is shown in the Portuguese concerns for growing influence among Palmares leadership. These communities created a “problem” for colonizers as “a society dependent on slavery could not survive alongside a society of former slaves” (Cheney 11). A functioning society of the previously enslaved would directly contradict colonial justifications for slave labor that were critical to the political philosophies of the Portuguese, suggesting clear influence in organized Afro-Brazilian resistance. This not only inspired other slaves to defect to quilombo communities as a “viable alternative”, but also called into question whether chattel slavery, specifically of Afro-Brazilians, was actually necessary for success in the region (Cheney 11). In fact, “primary sources by colonial officials and secondary sources from Rocha Pitta to the present day” framed Palmares “as a threat to Portuguese colonial sovereignty”, creating a political enemy in the pursuit of control for the Portuguese (Anderson 549). The Portuguese referred to the Palmaristas as an “internal enemy”, treating the Palmares as an autonomous political entity challenging colonial rule (Da Silva 1). A staunch adherence to the Palmares political structure also mirrored that of Portuguese colonials, as “their king [of Palmares] ruled them with severe justice, not permitting sorcerers among his people, and when some blacks would flee, he would send natives [native blacks] on their trail” to kill dissenters and instill fear in the people (Anderson 551). The notion that a community of escaped slaves could impose a legal system as strict and stable as the colonial institution highlighted the potential for alternative leadership, a dangerous idea for leaders in Portuguese society and a potential hopeful future for the enslaved.

It is also important to note that sources describe some political contracts between the Palmares community and colonists. After a series of unsuccessful raids on the Palmares, the Portuguese and Dutch signed a truce agreement with the Palmaristas on behalf of Ganga-Zumba, the leader of Palmares (Viotti 80). This indicates that the Portuguese authorities recognized Ganga-Zumba and, by extension, Palmares, as a political entity with whom they could negotiate terms of peace. In fact, Viotti suggests that this agreement was “unprecedented” as the colonial powers had never legally recognized Palmares as sovereign until this point (Viotti 87). This very act of engaging in a formal agreement implies a degree of legitimacy and diplomatic power among Palmares leadership.

The religious differences between the Palmares and Portuguese also reflect an effort to instill Afro-Brazilian politics via an entirely separate religious system. Since Christian beliefs served as the backbone for the various clergies, church officials, and members of the papacy who exercised and validated Portuguese law, a society built on an entirely different faith would challenge the very fabric of Portuguese colonies. In the case of the Palmares, “They acknowledge themselves to be obedient to [Ganga-Zumba], which means Great Lord. This one is held to be king and master by all of the rest, both natives of Palmares” and outsiders (Anderson 553). The Palmares community worshipped a single king, who “dwells in his royal town” and presides over multiple settlements, governing alongside a Minister of Justice and other advisors (Anderson 553). As a god worshipped by both Palmares residents and newcomers to the community, Ganga-Zumba effectively converted Afro-Brazilian slaves into his religion as part of his political control over the kingdom, an essential detail that likely hindered Christianization in the region. Allegiance to political leadership was given a religious underpinning, a strategy also employed by the Portuguese to impose Catholic rules onto the same slaves who now defected to Palmares seeking African traditions. In addition, the mention of a group of ministers under Ganga-Zumba and subsequent settlements hints at the idea that Palmares was an expansive “republic” of its own, furthering its significance as a sign of organized Afro-Brazilian governance despite colonization (Anderson 553). Stuart Schwartz, in his accounts of sugar plantations across Brazil, postulates that this adherence to religious tradition sparked “a strong debate” between Portuguese slave owners and politicians on whether African cultural preservation was necessary to maintain order among slaves or was at the root of their rebellion (Schwartz 342). Shockwaves of political discourse resulting from the Palmaristas not only speaks to the political power of the society, but also suggests a greater concern that the story of Palmares would spur rebellion in similar Portuguese sugar plantations, highlighting its impact for enslaved Afro-Brazilians.

Interestingly, when Christian religion did intersect with the Palmares, it seemed to be readopted to fit African practices. In the Dutch exploration of the Palmares, there were mentions of many catholic saints in the residences of Palmaristas (Viotti 91). Other accounts note that “they have not wholly lost recognition of the Church”, having a chapel in the town and statues of saints as well as Jesus and Mary (Anderson 553). At the same time, however, the implemented practices of religion did not adhere to Christianity, as Palmaristas married multiple wives in spite of “natural law”, ate what they wanted, and observed faith “within their capacity” (Anderson 554). This notion of borrowing Christian faith practices, yet practicing an entirely different worship of Ganga-Zumba tied to the state, highlights a separation of faith and governance when it came to Christianity. Sources that do suggest a strict adherence to the Christian faith in Palmares are generally dismissive of the community, ignoring aspects of African religions and instead portraying the community as savages (Da Silva 3). However, this only serves to strengthen the argument that Palmares was not merely a renegade settlement, but a fully realized socio-political entity that actively brought attention to the ignored Afro-Brazilian governance, which was assumed by the Dutch to still be Christian loyalty from runaway slaves. Just as many Portuguese colonies maintained Christian politics despite individuals practicing African spirituality in private, the inverse seems to be true with the Palmares, once again disrupting the assumptions fueling colonial rule at the time. In doing so, the people of Palmares effectively questioned Christianity as the only way to establish a theocratic way of life, with Palmared standing on its own as an anti-colonial system.

In the colonies and plantations surrounding Palmares, motivations for Afro-Brazilian governance point to the power of Palmares in uniting Afro-Brazilians, both enslaved and free, for a common political and religious cause. Before contracts were written with Palmaristas, in Engenho Santana, a sugar plantation, over fifty slaves successfully revolted against their owner. After multiple attacks on their newly claimed plantation, they proposed a peace treaty in a similar fashion to the Palmaristas, asking to “have their own land, to choose their own overseers” and to have “cultural freedom” (Schwartz 159). Even pre-rebellion, it was noted that Santana slaves “constantly bargained for better conditions” (Schwartz 159). Palmares’ success reflects similar desires for political power and self-determination that were paramount to other slave rebellions in the same era of colonial rule. In colonial Bahia, Afro-Brazilian slaves continued to exercise whatever political rights they could negotiate, as, at times, the “dictate of the slave owner was in reality a compromise with the strategies and desires of the slaves”, especially regarding disputes on manumission, work conditions and marriage (Schwartz 390). Santidade, a millenarian movement among Afro-Brazilian slaves in the late sixteenth century, spurred many runaway communities similar to Palmares that also “seemed to create an especially dangerous situation” for Portuguese leaders as these groups appointed their own bishops and priests as religious leaders (Schwartz 49). The fact that the Palmares community, in its social and political structure, addressed the concerns of ownership and sovereignty sparked across sugar plantations in Brazil, reinforces its place in history as an impactful example of successful leadership in spite of the colonial system.

Another essential means through which the Palmares displayed Afro-Brazilian agency was its presence as a serious economic and military threat, employing strategies such as internalized production and strategic military. In a Dutch expedition led by an army lieutenant, the abandoned Palmares settlement was described as “well-kept lands with all kinds of cereals” and “beautifully irrigated with streamlets”, suggesting advanced cultivation throughout the society (Kent 167). Furthermore, Palmaristas were “tillers of land who planted ‘every kind of vegetables’ and knew how to store them against ‘wartime and winter’”, suggesting notable farming skills likely adapted from runaway slaves who worked on plantations (Kent 168). Palmares served as an example of how the enslaved could leverage their agency despite their subjugation to replace a subservient labor economy with a self-sustaining one. As a result, Palmares “proved that free people, even free black people, could sustain themselves without agricultural commodity production based on forced labor”, detaching economic success from racial identity among colonial projects sustained by racial slavery, giving Palmares its “real strength” (Cheney 11 and Kent 168). This internalized production was not only significant for the success it brought Palmares, but also due to the effects it had on the Portuguese and Dutch, creating “an aggressive enemy” which threatened the colonial economy (Cheney 11). The fact that “[colonial] town merchants” actively traded with Palmares, “bartering utensils for agricultural produce” further highlights Palmares’ economic agency that made it a genuine economic force among the colonies (Kent 171). This also implies that Palmares generated surplus agricultural goods valuable enough to exchange for essential items, moving beyond mere subsistence, and showing other Afro-Brazilians the potential for self-determination. The colonial economy not only suffered as the Palmares became self-sufficient, but also suffered more broadly from a loss of slave labor, which “emerges as the one solid reason behind the morador-palmarista conflict” as slave prices “increased considerably by the late 1660s” partially due to the number of runaways defecting to Palmares-esque communities (Kent 168). This affected colonials to such an extent that it motivated them to establish peace with Palmares, so as to ensure they could trade resources to “achieve stability” (Anderson 552). The Palmares used similar trade networks to create economic alliances with neighboring settlements, fortifying their control over the region and mutual protection (Da Silva 6). Once again, the Palmares emerged as a force that could not only protect Afro-Brazilian slaves and sustain their communities, but could also wear away at the control that colonial forces had over communities in Brazil.

These tensions later resulted in military conflict, and in the battles between the Palmares and the Portuguese and Dutch, the military strength of Palmaristas despite a clear disadvantage in military resources shines light on Afro-Brazilians posing an offensive strength against colonialism. Palmares withstood near-constant attacks, at one point enduring an average of one Portuguese invasion “every fifteen months” (Kent 162). Despite these military threats, even the Portuguese recognized the strength of Palmares’ forces, with Governor Sotto-Maior admitting in 1687 that Pernambuco could not defeat Palmares alone and required the aid of “bandeirantes” from São Paulo to overpower them (Kent 174). Dutch officials expressed a similar sentiment, viewing Palmares as a “great danger” upon their discovery (Kent 165). Zumbi, Palmares’ most well-known leader, was described as a “general of arms” and “god of war,” emphasizing his military prowess and the Palmaristas’ formidable resistance (Da Silva 6). The Palmares’ military organization trained soldiers and even forged their own weapons, conducting continuous raids and intelligence operations on nearby Portuguese colonial settlements (Kent 168). The sheer frequency of resistance by the Palmares despite the Portuguese’s longstanding control in the region calls into question the strength of these colonial forces altogether. In fact, the notion that runaway slaves could organize a military that competed with colonial enemies highlights how essential these once enslaved people were to the functioning of colonial society altogether, stressing the presence of Afro-Brazilians in the Portuguese colonial narrative. Finally, despite their eventual fall, the Palmares’ ability to hold off European forces for nearly a century points to military sophistication, demonstrating that Afro-Brazilians were not merely victims of colonialism, but active combatants in the struggle against it.

Each of these aspects of the Palmares community–politics, religion, economy and military–helped craft a runaway slave society that instilled hope for Afro-Brazilians to have a society independent of colonial enslavement and a nullified human rights. Moreover, Palmares demonstrated that Brazil could be more than just a colonial enterprise. Its legacy reshaped Afro-Brazilian history, challenging the very notion that colonial rule was essential to Brazil’s existence and proving that alternative, self-sustaining societies could be realized.