Hoy las armas nacionales se han cubierto de gloria.
Ignacio Zaragoza, May 5th, 1862.
First
of all, I'd have to say that the inspiration behind this piece of writing came
back in St. Patrick's Day, when I read Seamus McKiernan's article on The
Huffington Post titled "Why I don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day". At
first, I thought it was sort of odd, but later on I
could find a reasonable ground for discussion about this topic, and actually how
many similar issues were found with celebrating Cinco de Mayo and those like me
who have Mexican heritage. I saw the parallelisms between both festivities. I
saw the common ground between the Irish and the Mexican immigrants, with the
bonus of remembering all those brave fighters who were part of the St.
Patrick's Batallion, switching sides to fight for Mexico in the US-Mexican War.
(And the reason why I have always wanted to travel to Clifden, Connemara, Ireland
on September 12th, to see the Mexican flag flying in remembrance of
John Riley and his “Patricios”).
To
begin with, I do not actively celebrate Cinco de Mayo. I might end up going out to a party by mere
circumstance, but not exactly looking forward to it. Not in the way it is celebrated
nowadays in the States. Cinco de Mayo is way more than enchiladas and tequila.
It is way more than wearing a large sombrero and a fake moustache. Cinco de
Mayo, though the remembrance of a temporary victory over the French,
represented a good chance of a feeble and outnumbered David winning over a
cocky and strong Goliath.
Having
lived in Mexico showed me the two different perspectives toward this
celebration. In Mexico, May 5th is a national bank holiday, since it is the
anniversary of the Battle of Puebla, back in 1862, when the Mexican army
defeated the French. Obviously, there would be official government ceremonies,
but not wide public celebrations as seen in United States. My reasoning behind
that remarkable difference might be in the person of the leader of that Mexican
army, a general named Ignacio Zaragoza.
This
is the story of a man who was born in one little town, where nine flags have
flown over the time. A little town that belonged to three countries while he
lived. A man who had it all against him. His family left the town where he was
born to move south, two years before the ones that called themselves Texians
defied a central government looking forward to become a independent country.
Growing up, he was enrolled to become a man of religion, but the times were
changing so he pursued a different career. He might have not imagined back then
that he was to face a great challenge and even less that he would overcome it
to give a glimpse of glory to his name. Back then, Mexico was a country
troubled by long internal fighting between Conservatives and Liberals. Such
division and struggles had influenced in the loss of half its territory and a
number of serious problems which were such a hurdle for the healthy growth of a
nation. This same division caused in the long run that a foreign power became
interested into invading them.
8
years before the French invasion, there was a competition to write a National
Anthem. The lyrics of the chosen one (the one still being used
as Mexican National Anthem) say:
"Mas si osare un extraño enemigo
profanar con su planta tu suelo,
piensa ¡oh Patria querida! que el cielo
un soldado en cada hijo te dio."
(But if some enemy outlander
should dare to profane your ground with his sole,
think, oh beloved Fatherland!, that Heaven
has given you a soldier in every son.).
This was not totally true until 1862. For that brief moment, a man knew how to unify and lead his army to defeat a better one fulfilled that half-stanza. He commanded a poorly equipped and outnumbered Mexican army to defend the city of Puebla against elite French forces.
"Mas si osare un extraño enemigo
profanar con su planta tu suelo,
piensa ¡oh Patria querida! que el cielo
un soldado en cada hijo te dio."
(But if some enemy outlander
should dare to profane your ground with his sole,
think, oh beloved Fatherland!, that Heaven
has given you a soldier in every son.).
This was not totally true until 1862. For that brief moment, a man knew how to unify and lead his army to defeat a better one fulfilled that half-stanza. He commanded a poorly equipped and outnumbered Mexican army to defend the city of Puebla against elite French forces.
Ignacio
Zaragoza was Texan-born, from a place known today as Goliad, Texas (though similar to Goliath, the name is believed to be an
anagram to Hidalgo, the founding father of Mexico)
This happened years before the Independence of Texas from Mexico. This mere
fact might establish the first reason behind the popularity of Cinco de Mayo in
the States: how a Texan-born, fighting for another country (though he was
raised more like a Mexican than a Texan), could defeat what was the best army
back then. A short-lived victory though, since a year later the French defeated
the Mexican and helped establishing the Second Mexican Empire, with Archduke
Maximilian of Habsburg as emperor, and Zaragoza passing away of typhoid fever before Maximilian was crowned.
Some
historians go further in the analysis regarding the increased importance of this
apparently isolated event. During the same timeframe, United States was through
the Civil War, and though there were no direct support from the States to
either Mexico or France, historians like José Antonio Burciaga believe that if
the French had won that battle, they would have aid the South to free the
blocked ports. According with several academic studies, Cinco de Mayo became
quite popular during the 1940’s due to the Chicano movement, as a banner for
the Latino movement in Latino en California.
However, whichever the reasons Cinco de Mayo has
achieved this higher relevance in United States than in Mexico, my concern is
that, as McKiernan expressed, this celebration it is becoming in just an excuse
to drink and recreate a fake stereotype of Mexican people. Not everyone in
Mexico wears a sombrero, or drinks tequila. The most famous kind of enchiladas
made around the States is not even common in Mexico. Though it is heartwarming - for
those who share Mexican heritage like me - to see music and traditions being
celebrated through United States, at a certain extent it becomes amusing and
somewhat annoying when a non-Mexican says “Happy Mexican Independence Day!”,
which in fact is celebrated on September 16th, and it is actually a
bigger of a deal in Mexico. Everyone gathers with family and friends, preparing
traditional dishes and drinks, wearing traditional costumes and waiting for the
ceremony of the “Grito”, where the Mexican President goes in front of the crowd
waving the Mexican flag shouting Vivas in remembrance of the equivalent of our
Founding Fathers.
Some
might say: “Whatever! Good for you, we will drink the tequila!” and I do
respect. But I do consider that there are still quite sensitive issues for
Mexicans living in the United States, being immigration maybe the most
important. I am not against an inclusion of Mexican customs as acknowledgement
of the widespread Mexican heritage that many of us share; nevertheless, I would like
to see more content in these celebrations. Cinco de Mayo should be a reminder
of how we can achieve things even against all odds, if we learn to overcome the
strengths of our adversaries and join all our efforts. To help people see
Mexico is more than bad news related with violence, and that we should be proud
of this heritage. Mexico is the country of Sor Juana, of Frida and Diego,
Alfonso Cuarón and Emmanuel Lubezki. The country of Juan Ruiz de Alarcón, Gonzalez
Camarena, Mario Molina, Hugo Sanchez and Chicharito. The country whose soccer
representative defeated the Brazilian giant in the shrine of English football
two years ago in London. The
country of a general who, against all odds, in front of a few thousand ragged
soldiers held the world’s most powerful army back then, covering the national
weapons with glory.