The conceited villager
believes the entire world to be his village. Provided
that be can be mayor, humiliate the rival who stole his
sweetheart, or add to the savings in his strongbox , he
considers the universal order good, unaware of those giants
with seven-league boots who can crush him underfoot, or of
the strife in the heavens between comets that go through the
air asleep, gulping down worlds. What remains of the village
in America must rouse itself. These are not the times for
sleeping in a nightcap, but with weapons for a pillow, like
the warriors of Juan de Castellanos: weapons of the mind,
which conquer all others. Barricades of ideas are worth more
than barricades of stones.
There is no prow
that can cut through a cloudbank of ideas. A powerful idea,
waved before the world at the proper time, can stop a
squadron of iron-clad ships, like the mystical flag of the
Last judgement. Nations that do not know one another should
quickly become acquainted, as men who are to fight a common
enemy. Those who shake their fists, like jealous brothers
coveting the same tract of land, or like the modest cottager
who envies the esquire his mansion, should clasp hands and
become one. Those who use the authority of a criminal
tradition to lop off the hands of their defeated brother
with a sword stained with his own blood, ought to return the
lands to the brother already punished sufficiently, if do
not want the people to call them robbers. The honest man
does not absolve himself of debts of honor with money, at so
much a slap. We can no longer be a people of leaves, living
in the air, our foliage heavy with blooms and crackling or
humming at the whim of the sun's caress, or buffeted and
tossed by the storms. The trees must form ranks to keep the
giant with seven-league boots from passing! It is the time
of mobilization, of marching together, and we must go
forward in close ranks, like silver in the veins of the
Andes.
Only those born
prematurely are lacking in courage. Those without faith in
their country are seven-month weaklings. Because they have
not courage, they deny it to the others. Their puny
arms-arms with bracelets and hands with painted nails, arms
of Paris or Madrid-can hardly reach the bottom limb, and
they claim the tall tree to be unclimbable. The ships should
be loaded with those harmful insects that gnaw at the bone
of the country that nourishes them. If they Parisians or
from Madrid, let them go to the Prado, to boast around, or
to Tortoni´s , in high hats. Those carpenter's sons who
ashamed that their fathers are carpenters! Those born in
America who are ashamed of the mother that reared them,
because she wears an Indian apron, and, who disown their
sick mothers, the scoundrels, abandoning her on her sickbed!
Then who is a real man? He who stays with his mother and
nurses her in her illness, or he who puts her to work out of
sight, and lives at her expense on decadent lands, sporting
fancy neckties, cursing the womb that carried him,
displaying the sign of the traitor on the back of his paper
frockcoat? These sons of our America, which will be saved by
its Indians in blood and is growing better; these deserters
who take up arms in the army of a North America that drowns
its Indians in blood and is growing worse! These delicate
creatures who are men but are unwilling to do men's work!
The Washington who made this land for them, did he not go to
live with the English, at a time when he saw them fighting
against his own country. These unbelievable of honor who
drag the honor over foreign soil like their counterparts in
the French Revolution with their dancing, their affections,
their drawling speech!
For in what lands
can men take more pride that in our long-suffering American
republics, raised up among the silent Indian masses by the
bleeding arms of a hundred apostles, to the sound of battle
between the book and processional candle? Never in history
have such advanced and united nations been forged in so
short a time from such disorganized elements. The
presumptuous man feels that the earth was made to serve as
his pedestal, because he happens to have a facile pen or
colourful speech, and he accuses his native land of being
worthless and beyond redemption because its virgin jungles
fail to provide him with a constant means of travelling over
the world, driving Persian ponies and lavishing champagne
like a tycoon. The incapacity does not lie with the emerging
country in quest of suitable forms and utilitarian
greatness; it lies rather with those who attempt to rule
nations of a unique and violent character by means of laws
inherited from four centuries of freedom in the United
States and nineteen centuries of monarchy in France. A
decree by Hamilton does not halt the charge of the
plainsman's horse. A phrase by Sieyes does nothing to
quicken the stagnant blood of the Indian race. To govern
well, one must see things as they are. And the able governor
in America is not the one who knows how to govern the
Germans or the French; he must know the elements that make
up his own country, and how to bring them together, using
methods and institutions originating within the country, to
reach that desirable state where each man can attain
self-realization and all may enjoy the abundance that Nature
has bestowed in everyone in the nation to enrich with their
toil and defend with their lives. Government must originate
in the country. The spirit of government must be that of the
country Its structure must conform to rules appropriate to
the country. Good government is nothing more than the
balance of the country's natural elements.
That is why in
America the imported book has been conquered by the natural
man. Natural men have conquered learned and artificial men.
The native half-breed has conquered the exotic Creole. The
struggle is not between civilization and barbarity, but
between false erudition and Nature. The natural man is good,
and he respects and rewards superior intelligence as long as
his humility is not turned against him, or he is not
offended by being disregarded-something the natural man
never forgives, prepared as he is to forcibly regain the
respect of whoever has wounded his pride or threatened his
interests. It is by conforming with this disdained native
elements that the tyrants of America have climbed to power,
and have fallen as soon as they betrayed them. Republics
have paid with oppression for their inability to recognize
the true elements of their countries, to derive from them
the right kind of government, and to govern accordingly. In
a new nation a government means a creator.
In nations
composed of both cultured and uncultured elements, the
uncultured will govern because it is their habit to attack
and resolve doubts with their fists in cases where the
cultured have failed in the art of governing. The uncultured
masses are lazy and timid in the realm of intelligence, and
they want to be governed well. But if the government hurts
them, they shake it off and govern themselves. How can the
universities produce governors if not a single university in
America teaches the rudiments of the art of government, the
analysis of elements peculiar to the peoples of America? The
young go out into the world wearing Yankee or French
spectacles, hoping to govern a people they do not know. In
the political race entrance should not go for the best ode,
but for the best study of the political factors of one's
country. Newspapers, universities and schools should
encourage the study of the country's pertinent components.
To know them is sufficient, without mincing words; for
whoever brushes aside even a part of the truth, whether
through intention or oversight, is doomed to fall. The truth
is built without it. It is easy to resolve our problem
knowing its components than resolve them without knowing
them. Along comes the natural man, strong and indignant, and
he topples all the justice accumulated from books because he
has not been governed in accordance with the obvious needs
of the country. Knowing is what counts. To know one's
country and govern it with that knowledge is the only way to
free it from tyranny. The European university must bow to
the American university. The history of America, from the
Incas to the present, must be taught in clear detail and to
the letter, even if the archons of Greece are overlooked.
Our Greece must take priority over the Greece which is not
ours. We need it more. Nationalist statement must replace
foreign statement. Let the world be grafted onto our
republics, but the trunk must be our own. And let the
vanquished pedant hold his tongue, for there are no lands in
which a man may take greater pride than in our
long-suffering American republics.
With the rosary
as our guide, our heads white and our bodies mottled, both
Indians and Creoles, we fearlessly entered the world of
nations. We set out to conquer freedom under the banner of
the virgin. A priest, a few lieutenants, and a woman raised
the Republic of Mexico onto the shoulders of the Indians. A
few heroic students, instructed in French liberty by a
Spanish cleric, made Central America rise in revolt against
Spain under a Spanish general. In monarchic garb emblazoned
with the sun, the Venezuelans to the north and the
Argentineans to the south began building nations. When the
heroes clashed and the continent was about to rock, one of
them, and not the lesser, handed the reins to the other. And
since heroism in times of peace is rare because it is not a
glorious as in times of war, it is easier to govern when
feelings are exalted and united than after a battle, when
divisive, arrogant, exotic, or ambitious thinking emerges.
The forces routed in the epic struggle-with the feline
cunning of the species, and using the weight of
realities-were undermining the new structure which comprised
both the rough-and-ready, unique regions of our half-breed
America and the silk-stockinged and frockcoated people of
Paris beneath the flag of freedom and reason borrowed from
nations skilled in the arts of government. The hierarchical
constitution of the colonies resisted the democratic
organization of the republics. The cravatted capitals left
their country boots in the vestibule. The bookworm redeemers
failed to realize that the revolution succeeded because it
came from the soul of the nation; they had to govern with
that soul and not without or against it. America began to
suffer, and still suffers, from the tiresome task of
reconciling the hostile and discordant elements it inherited
from the despotic and perverse colonizer, and the imported
methods and ideas which have been retarding logical
government because they are lacking in local realities.
Thrown out of gear for three centuries by a power which
denied men the right to use their reason, the continent
disregarded or closed its ears to the unlettered throngs
that helped bring it to redemption, and embarked on a
government based on reason-a reason belonging to all for the
common good, not the university brand of reason over the
peasant brand. The problem if independence did not lie in a
change of forms but in change of spirit.
It was imperative
to make common cause with the oppressed , in order to secure
a new system opposed to the ambitions and governing habits
of the oppressors. The tiger, frightened by gunfire, returns
at night to his prey. He dies with his ayes shooting flames
and his claws unsheathed. He cannot be heard coming because
he approaches with velvet tread. When the prey awakens, the
tiger is already upon it. The colony lives on the republic,
and our America is saving itself from its enormous
mistakes-the pride of its capital cities, the blind triumph
of a scorned peasantry, the excessive influx of foreign
ideas and formulas, the wicked and unpolitical disdain for
the aboriginal race-because of the higher virtue, enriched
with necessary blood, or a republic struggling against a
colony. The tiger lurks again every tree, lying in wait at
every turn. He will die with his claws unsheathed and his
eyes shooting flames.
But "these
countries will be saved", as was announced by the
Argentinean Rivadavia, whose only sin was being a gentleman
in these rough-and-ready times. A man does not sheathe a
machete in a silken scabbard, nor can he lay aside the short
lance merely because he is angered and stands at the door of
Iturbide´s Congress, "demanding that the fair-haired one be
named emperor". These countries will be saved because a
genius for moderation, found in the serene harmony of
Nature, seems to prevail in the continent of light, where
there emerges a new real man schooled for these real times
in the critical philosophy of guesswork and phalanstery that
saturated the previous generation.
We were a
phenomenon wit ha chest of an athlete, the hands of a dandy,
and the brain of a child. We were a masquerader in English
breeches, Parisian vest, North America jacket, and Spanish
cap. The Indian hovered near us in silence, and went off to
hills to baptize his children. The Negro was seeing pouring
out the songs of his heart at night, alone and unrecognised
among the rivers and wild animals. The peasant, the creator,
turned in blind indignation against the disdainful city,
against his own child. As for us, we were nothing but
epaulets and professors´ gown in countries that came into
the world wearing hemp sandals and headbands. It would have
been the mark of genius to couple the headband and the
professors´ gown with the founding fathers´ generosity and
courage, to rescue the Indian, to make a place for the
competent Negro, to fit liberty to the body of those who
rebelled and conquered for it. We were left wit the hearer,
the general, the scholar, and the sinecured. The angelic
young, as if caught in the tentacles of an octopus, lunged
heavenward, only to fall back, crowned with clouds in
sterile glory. The native, driven by instinct, swept away
the golden staffs of office in blind triumph. Neither the
Europeans nor the Yankee could provide the key to the
Spanish American riddle. Hate was attempted, and every year
the countries amounted to less. Exhausted by the senseless
struggle between the book and the lance, between reason and
the processional candle, between the city and the country,
weary of the impossible rule by rival urban cliques over the
natural nation tempestuous or inert by turns, we being
almost unconsciously to try love. Nations stand up and greet
one another. "What are we?" is the mutual question, and
little by little they furnish answers. When a problem arises
in Cojímar, they do not seek its solution in Danzig. The
frockcoat are still French , but thought begins to be
American. The youth of America are rolling up their sleeves,
digging their hands in the dough, and making it rise with
the sweat of their brows. They realize that there is too
much imitation, and that creation holds the key to
salvation. "Create" is the password of this generation. The
wine is made from plantain, but even if it turns sour, it is
our own wine! That a country's form of government must be in
keeping with its natural elements is a foregone conclusion.
Absolute ideas must take relative forms if they are not to
fail because of an error in form. Freedom, to be viable, has
to be sincere and complete. If a republic refuses to open
its arms to all, and move ahead wit hall, it dies. The tiger
within sneaks in through the crack; so does the tiger from
without. The general holds back his cavalry to a pace that
suits his infantry, for if its infantry is left behind, the
cavalry will be surrounded by the enemy. Politics and
strategy are one. Nations should live in an atmosphere of
self-criticism because it is healthy, but always with one
heart and one mind. Stoop to the unhappy, and lift them up
in your arms! Thaw out frozen America with the fire of your
hearts! Make the natural blood of the nations´ course
vigorously through their veins! The new American are on
their feet, saluting each other from nation to nation, the
eyes of the laborers shining with joy. The natural statesman
arises, schooled in the direct study of Nature. He reads to
apply his knowledge, not to imitate. Economists study the
problems at their point of origin. Speakers begin a policy
of moderation. Playwrights bring native characters to the
stage. Academies discuss practical subjects. Poetry shears
off its Zorrilla-like locks and hangs its red vest on the
glorious tree. Selective and sparkling prose is filled with
ideas. In the Indian republics, the governors are learning
Indian.
American is
escaping all its dangers. Some of the republics are still
beneath the sleeping octopus, but others, under the law of
averages, are draining their land with sublime and furious
haste, as if to make up for centuries lost. Still others,
forgetting that Juarez went about in a carriage drawn by
mules, hitch their carriages to the wind, their coachmen
soap bubbles. Poisonous luxury, the enemy of freedom,
corrupts the frivolous and opens the door to the foreigner.
In others, where independence is threatened, an epic spirit
heightens their manhood. Still others spawn an army capable
of devouring them in voracious wars. But perhaps our America
is running another risk that does not come from itself but
from the difference in origins, methods, and interests
between the two halves of the continent, and the time is
near at hand when an enterprising and vigorous people who
scorn and ignore our America will even so approach it and
demand a close relationship. And since strong nations, self-
made by law and shotgun, love strong nations and them along;
since the time since the time of madness and ambition-from
which North America may be freed by the predominance of the
purest elements in its blood, or on which it may be launched
by its vindictive and sordid masses, its tradition of
expansion, or the ambition of some powerful leader-is not so
near at hand, even to the most timorous eye, that there is
no time for the test of discreet and unwavering pride that
could confront and dissuade it; since its good name as a
republic in the eyes of the world's perceptive nations puts
upon North America a restrain that can not be taken away by
childish provocations or pompous arrogance or parricidal
discords among our American nations-the pressing need of our
America is to show itself as it is, one in spirit and
intent, swift conquerors of a suffocating past, stained only
by the enriching blood drawn from the scarfs left upon us by
our masters. The scorn of our formidable neighbor who does
not know us is our America's greatest danger. And since the
day of the visit is near, it is imperative that our neighbor
know us, and soon, so that it will not scorn us. Through
ignorance it might even come the lay hands on us. Once it
does know us, it will remove its hands out of respect. One
must have faith in the best in men and distrust the worst.
One must allow the best to be shown so that it reveals and
prevails over the worst. Nations should have a pillory for
whoever stirs up useless hate, and another for whoever fails
to tell them the truth in time.
There can be no
racial animosity, because there are no races. The theorist
and feeble thinkers string together and warm over the
bookshelf races which the well-disposed observer and the
fair-minded traveller vainly seek in the justice of Nature
where man's universal identity springs forth from triumphant
love and the turbulent huger for life. The soul, equal and
eternal, emanates from bodies of different shapes and
colors. Whoever foments and spreads antagonism and hate
between the races, sins against humanity. But as nations
take shape among other different nations, there is
condensation of vital and individual characteristics of
thought habit, expansion and conquest, vanity and greed
which could-from the latent state of national concern, and
in the period of internal disorder, or the rapidity with
which the country's character has been accumulating-be
turned into a serious threat for the weak and isolated
neighbouring countries, declared by the strong country to be
inferior and perishable. The thought is father to the deed.
And one must not attribute, through a provincial antipathy,
a fatal and inborn wickedness to the continents´ fair
skinned nation simply because it does not speak our
language, nor see the world as we see it, nor resemble us in
its political defects, so different from ours, nor
favourably regard the excitable, darkskinned people, or look
charitably, from its still uncertain eminence, upon those
less favored by history, who climb the road of republicanism
by heroic stages. The self-evidence facts of the problem
should not be obscured, because the problem can be resolved,
for peace of centuries to come, by appropriate study, and by
tacit and immediate union in the continental spirit. With a
single voice the hymn is already being sung; the present
generation is carrying industrious America along the road
enriched by their sublime fathers; from Rio Grande to the
strains of Magellan, the Great Semi, astride its condor,
spread the seed of the new America over the romantic nations
of the continent and the sorrowful islands of the
sea!
La Revista
Ilustrada. Nueva York, January 1, 1891