The island’s mix of races, cultures, and immigrants has not developed without bitter tensions. Slavery—from the earliest record in 1616 to emancipation in 1834—and its socioeconomic fallout has proven the most divisive and emotionally fraught issue among Bermudians, right up to the current day. Slavery in Bermuda was domestic in nature, and very different in scale from the plantation system of the Caribbean or U.S. South—mainly because the islands had no sugarcane or cotton. Bermudian colonists used slaves to farm their land, crew their ships, and look after their homes and children. In a system of conflict and compromise, island whites and blacks influenced each other’s lives heavily and shaped the culture and look of modern Bermuda—the generally lighter skin color of Bermudians compared to Caribbean or African blacks is an obvious example.

It took until modern times, even up to the 1980s and 1990s, for Bermudians to start openly discussing race and racial tensions in their society. That is largely due to the fact that racial segregation here ended just a generation ago, in the early 1960s. One of the biggest issues for the black community remains the ongoing struggle to achieve economic equality, after decades in which even getting a mortgage from a white-owned bank was impossible. Racist views still exist in Bermuda, though with a black-run government, a large and growing black middle class, and increasing Bermudian youth receiving higher education in multiethnic urban centers, it continues to recede. If racist sentiments are ever expressed, they are often subtler than in the United States. “Bermuda’s blacks and whites mix very well nine-to-five, and at big community events,” comments Charles Barclay, former editor of Bermuda Business Visitor magazine. “But among some in the older white community, there flourishes what might be described as a benign bigotry; a casual, condescending bias which one could laugh off as the folly of a fading era—were it not for the fact that they retain significant wealth and power.”

Complicating the situation is the influx of “expats”—mostly white expatriate workers, many of whom are hired at higher salaries than Bermudian counterparts, black or white. Common resentment against foreign workers is difficult to separate from the issue of race, though more often than not, economic factors are to blame.

Regardless of color or salary, there is a definite pecking order in Bermudian society. At the top of the heap in terms of social acceptance are “Born Bermudians,” though those with 300-year-old families rather than second-generation status are preferred. Next come the spouses of Born Bermudians, who are accorded respect almost grudgingly. So-called “Paper Bermudians”—those who have won their status—either decades ago, when it was straightforward, or as newly recognized long-term residents—are next down on the list of social importance. Finally, at the bottom of the heap, come the foreign workers, the expats. They have no voting rights—and even have to stand in a different line than Bermudians at the airport when returning to the island. They consider themselves, correctly in most cases, to be standing on shaky ground in a much larger sense. Thanks to Bermuda’s work-permit system, which allows one-year or three-year permits to most workers, the expat population remains a largely silent one. Most foreign residents prefer not to speak out publicly about issues of any kind, let alone controversial topics like race or political independence; most feel they would be jeopardizing their chances of remaining on the island. Some Bermudians dislike foreigners because they are seen to consider the island as a place to make loads of money with little care for its people or culture. As a visitor, you will usually be unaware of such complicated social undercurrents, but they do exist and affect daily life for all residents.