Jacqueline Jackson, the heretofore homemaking wife of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, recently was arrested protesting the Navy's bombing of the Puerto Rican island of Vieques. Bidden by a letter from Rep. Luis Gutierrez (D-Illinois), Ms. Jackson stepped out of her husband's shadow and journeyed from Chicago to the 33,000-acre island to dramatize her solidarity with Puerto Rican protesters.

She spent several days in jail following her arrest, refusing to post bail. Her gesture of solidarity follows that of the Rev. Al Sharpton, who was sentenced to 90 days in jail for his May protest of the bombing of Vieques. Sharpton's motives are slightly tainted by his political aspirations--just days before his arrest, Sharpton hinted he may make a run for president. Not only would he gain political points for helping forge an black-Latino alliance on the issue, but his jail sentence for an act of principle (and the ensuing hunger strike) would be the ideal platform from which to launch a Sharpton-style campaign.

Putting aside cynical suspicions that both Jackson and Sharpton are using the Vieques protest as platforms for their own personal agendas, their actions are emblematic of new efforts by black leaders to find common cause with the country's burgeoning Latino population.

The 2000 Census revealed that Hispanics would soon surpass African-Americans as the largest "minority" group in the nation. This is a change of historic proportions, and although most black leaders have muted their fears, there is considerable anxiety that the role reversal could provoke major tensions between the two groups.

Signs of that tension have appeared in many regions of the country. In Georgia, for example, African-American legislators last March killed an effort to alter the state's definition of "minority" to include Hispanics. The change would have included Hispanics in a law designed to give tax breaks to companies that hire minority subcontractors. A black-Latino divide is at the center of ongoing battles over control of the Dallas School Board. And new Los Angeles Mayor James Hahn, the white candidate in the recent election, defeated Hispanic candidate Antonio Villaraigosa with 80 percent of the black vote. Poll data revealed that many blacks voted for Hahn to spite Villaraigosa.

Examples abound and most of them boil down to this basic dilemma: Latinos are becoming more insistent in their demand for larger, more proportionate slices of the economic and political pie; African-Americans fear that Hispanic gains will come at their expense. The media feed this fear with incessant, alarming accounts of changing demographics. Seldom do the corporate media emphasize the potential of a powerful coalition that together now constitutes more than a quarter of the U.S. population.

"There's a changing of the guard," wrote National Urban League director Hugh Price in a recent column. "It's going to be stressful. The key for all of us as we go forward is to recognize that there's a powerful force that can drive public policy. Whether we harness that potential is up to us."

Many African-American activists understand the power that could come from such a coalition and are trying to bolster relationships that could head off potential conflicts. But the diversity of the Hispanic population makes coalition-building a tricky proposition. "A large number of Hispanics are white," notes Yvonne Scruggs-Leftwich, executive director of the Black Leadership Forum, a national confederation of black civil rights groups. "The issues that resonate with people of color may not resonate throughout the Hispanic population."

The issues are complicated and nuanced. But one fact is clear: The Latino population will soon exceed the African-American population. This demographic reality will add yet another dimension to the architecture of power relations in the nation. Black leaders should follow the example of Sharpton and Jackson and make bold gestures that outline common interests. If we're lucky, we may get a coalition that can nudge the Unites States toward greater democracy.