It was bound to happen and we’re almost there. If trends continue as they are now, within the next two decades, there will be more Puerto Ricans living in the United States than in Puerto Rico itself. Although the architects of the island’s mass migration experiment (and I don’t use this word lightly), expected that those leaving would simply "assimilate" into the American "mainstream," this outcome has — and has not — been the case.
Puerto Ricans are indisputably part of "America," but we are also witnessing mushrooming of a plurality of "Puerto Ricos" with a wide range of ties to the United States and approaches to "becoming Americans." So, what do these trends mean to the island and Nuyorico, just to name a few prime locations?
If the continental United States becomes the country with the largest number of Puerto Ricans, this demographic fact will symbolically transform the U.S. into the largest "boricua" country in the world. This turn of events will then redefine the Puerto Rican "nation" as only partly rooted in the island territory and dispersed across national and cultural boundaries.
The island of "Puerto Rico," queerly becomes one of many copies without an "original." The success of U.S. Puerto Ricans in entertainment also means that Puerto Ricanness will increasingly be defined to the world (including islanders), by globalized culture industries, with a better chance at challenging island state-sponsored constructions of a single Puerto Rican culture. While not without its own pitfalls, this shift will undoubtedly transform the island elite’s perennial identity "question," from "what are Puerto Ricans" to "where is Puerto Rican."
The assertion that the majority of us are Spanish-speaking mono-nationals with rotting roots in the Mother Country will be seriously challenged by the obviousness that the larger Puerto Rican "nation" is bilingual, multiracial, and simultaneously an American ethnic group. In addition, as U.S. Puerto Ricans gain in "value" under the guise of Hollywood divas, athletes, and mainland politicos, the formerly acceptable practice of bashing Puerto Ricans (as such) will become less widespread, easier to challenge, and well, costly. New York’s last election is a monument to this novel development.
The unprecedented Latino vote for Republican mayor-elect Bloomberg was less an endorsement for the candidate and his party, and more of a punitive vote against Mark Green’s last-minute low blows aimed at Puerto Rican challenger Fernando Ferrer during October’s Democratic primary. While poverty and racism will remain major issues for U.S. Puerto Ricans, the valorization of the group as part of a transcultural ethnic aggregate — Latinos — and its ability to swing elections in large states like New York and Florida, will translate into further inclusion in governing structures.
Of course, this will not mean an end to poverty or discrimination, but improved conditions to address it. For islanders, this power reshuffling in the United States will be double-edged. Given the aggressive courting of the "Latino" vote and the cumulative experience of the Puerto Rican community in the United States, their elected officials and advocates will have more influence over legislation affecting islanders themselves, and there is no reason to assume that the coziness that has characterized the relationship lately will continue as Puerto Ricans become more integrated into American society, disperse geographically, and pursue different interests.
Importantly, even without a presidential vote or voting representation in Congress, U.S. electoral politics is already a factor in island life, yet this potential clout is, again, mediated by U.S. Puerto Ricans. Although politicians will continue to woo islanders during electoral crunch time and at times of need, this should not be confused with an interest in Puerto Rico itself, but as part of larger political triangles such as gaining votes in the states, protecting specific corporate interests, or rehearsing alliances on the mainland. In this arrangement, the island acquires greater symbolic value, but also becomes more of a pilgrimage stop on the way to continental political victories, than a significant constituency: a pawn in the chess game of U.S. majority-minority politics.
In other words, the island will be to electoral U.S. politics what Vieques has been to island status negotiations. In fact, the deflating of the Vieques coalition is a clear example of this. The issue may still burn in the hearts of Puerto Rican-American congressmen and activists, but making sure that no further terrorist attacks affect U.S. cities is clearly higher up in people’s minds than Tito Kayak’s Puerto Rican flag-waving on top of the Liberty Bell. Let’s always recall that in politics, unlike aging, long-term memory is the first thing to go.
For good or evil, in sickness and in health, Puerto Ricans are more integrated to the United States than ever before. As the context of this integration continuously morphs into different shapes in a wide range of locations, the island leadership should reconsider some of its outdated financial solutions to the crumbling economy and archaic definitions of U.S.-Puerto Rico relations.
While even the new picture is far from rosy, it offers new opportunities to address seemingly eternal problems. Yet, if people prefer to think that Mayor Bloomberg is here primarily because he is Gov. Calderón’s friend, or Al Sharpton went to jail mostly because he cares about Vieques, we will be living in the Puerto Rico, USA of Lalaland, and the island will remain the most disenfranchised part of the Ame-Rícan archipelago.
