Were Cabarets Where Blacks and Whites Drank and Danced Together.
Okinawa Town Has a Black Enclave That White G.I. Enters at His Peril
See the article in its original context from
November 24, 1970
,
Page
2Buy Reprints
TimesMachine is an exclusive benefit for home delivery and digital subscribers.
About the Archive
This is a digitized version of an article from The Times's print archive, before the start of online publication in 1996. To preserve these articles as they originally appeared, The Times does not alter, edit or update them.
Occasionally the digitization process introduces transcription errors or other problems; we are continuing to work to improve these archived versions.
KOZA, Okinawa, Nov. 16— Mama‐San longs for the good old days when black and white American servicemen drank together and flirted with her hostesses in her spacious cab aret.
Mama‐San is a plump, shrewd‐eyed Okinawan busi nesswoman who opened her cabaret 12 years ago in the heart of Old Koza, a maze of alleys just off a principal street. The 30 to 40 bars in Old Koza cater exclusively to black servicemen these days, while Koza as a whole makes most of its living off the many American camps and bases that surround it.
Mama‐San wanted neither her own name nor that of her cabaret used. "I don't want any trouble," she said.
For years now black service men on Okinawa have tended to congregate in the bars, hotels and tailor and barber shops of Old Koza, known as Teruya to Okinawans. Some establish ments accept only black cus tomers. In others the patronage is mixed. A white serviceman enters the area at his peril, especially late at night.
"Things have changed," a military policeman said. He could not remember exactly when whites ceased to be wel come in Old Koza, although he has served on Okinawa on several 18‐month tours of duty since the early nineteen‐sixties.
Clashes Reported
Today, he said, whites walk ing the main street of Old Koza are frequently jumped by blacks emerging from bars right on the street. When M.P.'s try to arrest a black, other blacks will try to prevent the arrest. "When we put a fellow in hand cuffs to take him to the station, that's when we get in trouble, trying to get through the crowded streets," the M.P. added.
At a high‐level headquarters, an officer deeply concerned about the situation shook his head.
"We don't accept the idea that whites cannot go into that area if they have a legitimate reason," he said.
There are frequent patrols, by integrated military‐police teams, but it might do more harm than good to try to de segregate Old Koza forcibly, the officer said.
Neither Better Nor Worse
Racial tensions on Okinawa, he felt, are a reflection of racial tensions in the United States. He was disturbed because, while the situation was no worse than in some other places, it was certainly not better.
"I don't see any way to wave a magic wand and change these things," he said, adding that the American goal on Okinawa was "a degree of joint patron age by whites and blacks every where."
The officer could see no means of achieving the goal except through patient and re peated educational efforts such as equal‐opportunity seminars and prompt action to eliminate documented cases of discrimi nation.
"Sometimes," Mama‐San said, "I still get white cus tomers. They come in as guests of my black patrons. Even then there's trouble."
She looked apprehensively at her questioners, one white, the other Oriental, who had been escorted into her club by a black Air Force sergeant who is a military policeman.
The M.P. smiled back reas suringly and leaned over to whisper a word to two blacks sitting at the bar. One came over to the table where Mama San was talking with her guests and delivered her a Coke with a flourish and a smile.
The other black was hostile. Refusing the offer of a drink, he told the journalists that instead of describing Old Koza they should be writing about oppression. "The only way to end the oppression is to get rid of the oppressors," he said.
She Was Alarmed
Mama‐San, alarmed, rose from the table, her eyes implor ing her guests to leave.
On the street, where Okina wan schoolboys walked in their black uniforms, a young white and a black strolled along, try ing to decide which bar to enter.
The M.P. excused himself, walked up to them, explained that the area was unsafe and suggested that they go where mixed patronage was still pos sible.
The white was from Colo rado, the black from Alabama, and their unit had arrived in Okinawa the night before. They said they had no idea that it was best not to drink together in Old Koza.
Were Cabarets Where Blacks and Whites Drank and Danced Together.
Source: https://www.nytimes.com/1970/11/24/archives/okinawa-town-has-a-black-enclave-that-white-gi-enters-at-his-peril.html
0 Response to "Were Cabarets Where Blacks and Whites Drank and Danced Together."
Enregistrer un commentaire