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Vieques: Message from Camp García Juan Giusti-Cordero
Americans know about the "message to García" from the story by Elbert Hubbard (1899) set in Cuba at the start of the Spanish-American War. Millions of copies of Message to García were published, and the short story was widely translated. A film version was made in the 1930s. More recently, Americans learned about Camp García in Vieques, Puerto Rico, where the Navy has a major bombing range. The U.S. and world media widely reported on the Federal "removal" of the protesters who camped out in the bombing range for over a year, and blocked the Camp's main gate for months. Many threads connect the García message in Cuba at the close of the
nineteenth century and the "message" from the Puerto Rican camps at the
close of the twentieth. Then and now, Cuba and Puerto Rico have been entangled
at levels far deeper than news reports would suggest. At the same time-indeed
in the same time-Vieques is woven with another Cuban "travel story" as
sensational today as the Message to García was in 1899: the Elián González
case. Message to García takes as its point of departure a mission to Cuba carried out by a U.S. military intelligence officer, Andrew Summers Rowan in April 1898. Rowan was ordered to go to Cuba and find the Cuban insurgent general, Calixto García. Rowan took a "message" that many have believed was a promise of U.S. aid for the liberation of Cuba, but which Rowan himself acknowledges was only a series of inquiries on the rebels' military strength. Hubbard was not very interested in "all this Cuban business," as he called it, and he reduced the facts of the Rowan mission to a minimum. He was far more interested in what he saw as Rowan's dogged loyalty and determination to "get things done," regardless of the obstacles. The pamphlet-length Message to García thus centers on an inspirational message promoting the work ethic. Hubbard's primer on employee loyalty became a favorite of the railroad companies, who printed thousands of copies for free distribution among their employees. The myth overwhelmed the facts, and millions of Americans became familiar with Hubbard's story while caring little about its actual history. Message to García soon became a "business classic," and the story was quickly translated into Russian and Japanese. During the Russo-Japanese War, troops on both sides were issued copies by their governments! Today, Message may be read on six websites, including one entitled "Hightechbiz.com." The message from García-there was one, of course-was little noticed
by Hubbard, even though its existence is undisputed by historians. Besides
offering military information, Calixto García, like most of the Cuban
rebels' provisional government, sought a limited U.S. intervention that
would assure supplies of ammunition in order for the Cuban rebels to prevail.
The Thirteen Colonies certainly had no compunction about seeking foreign
assistance from other countries in their own war of independence-indeed,
from all three of Britain's European archenemies (though the new republic
did not have to contend with French demands for naval base.) In the case
of Cuba, it was the U.S. itself that was blockading the munitions shipments.
Like many of his contemporaries, Hubbard cared little for the details
of "all this Cuban business," and assumed that the Cubans supported U.S.
intervention without reserve. Manifest destinies The distance between the facts and the myth of the "message to García" outlines a metaphor-indeed, a primer-of erratic U.S. perspectives on the two Caribbean islands with the closest historical relations with the U.S. For Puerto Rico, too, is closely connected to the message to García. While Rowan was in Cuba in April-May 1898, a parallel mission unfolded in Puerto Rico. Henry Whitney, like Rowan a lieutenant in the U.S. Office of Military Intelligence, entered Puerto Rico on May 15 disguised as a British seaman... three days after San Juan had been bombarded without notice, at dawn, by a U.S. fleet. Whitney spent two weeks in southern Puerto Rico. In the War Department command structure, military intelligence was located directly under General Nelson Miles, Commanding General of the U.S. Army and soon commander of the invasion of Puerto Rico. In effect, Whitney was Miles' personal envoy and spokesman, as Rowan had been in Cuba. Like Rowan, Whitney eluded Spanish authorities with local help and met with numerous supporters of U.S. intervention. Whitney left Puerto Rico in late May and returned to Washington. He reported widespread support for a U.S. invasion. What he may not have grasped is that, in Puerto Rico as in Cuba, U.S. intervention was seen as the quickest way to end Spanish colonialism, and as a path to still undefined forms of self-rule... not to new forms of colonialism. There were no generals on the field in Puerto Rico, but there certainly was a message. No rebellion existed in 1898 in Puerto Rico prior to the U.S. invasion, either against Spain or for the U.S. None of the reasons that the U.S. used to justify invading Cuba applied here. This also helps to explain why the Puerto Rico invasion plans were kept secret. Under the autonomous government established in early 1898, Puerto Rico had universal male suffrage. There were no poll taxes, literacy tests, or other such restrictions. Puerto Ricans had replaced Spaniards in many government jobs. And Spain had freed all Puerto Rican political prisoners, without conditions. In the decade of Plessy v. Ferguson and grandfather clauses, Puerto Rico may have been more democratic than much of the U.S. The Americans, of course, thought that Puerto Ricans wanted-needed-to be Americanized, that is, colonized (instead, we may have been "southernized"). Manifest Racism The U.S. expeditionary force to Cuba embarked from Tampa
in late June, the morning after a riot provoked by white troops against
the seasoned African-American "buffalo soldiers." During the week-long
journey from Tampa to Santiago, the troops on board lived in segregated
quarters, with the black troops usually in the lower decks. By July 17,
Santiago de Cuba surrendered and Spain's fate in Cuba was sealed. But
before Spain could surrender, Miles hurried to invade Puerto Rico for
no other reason than the expansionist designs centered on the U.S. Navy. The support of many Puerto Ricans for the U.S. invasion in 1898 was as conditional and ambiguous as the democratic intent of the U.S. The historical record reveals no widespread, open support for independence, but clearly there was also no pro-U.S. rebellion on the eve of the invasion, as there had been in Texas, California, and Hawai'i (with heavy covert and overt U.S. involvement in all). In Cuba as in Puerto Rico, the U.S. armed forces prevailed with considerable help from anti-Spanish sectors, but refused to allow the latter any part in negotiations for Spanish surrender. U.S. policymakers wanted to make sure that Spain surrendered to them and not to the insurgents. Wealthy Spanish, and other European, residents generally thought likewise, and were quick to rally to the new metropolis. After the "U.S." victory in Cuba, white American troops fraternized with Spanish prisoners rather than with the Cuban allies (most of whom were called "niggers" by the U.S. white troops). (In Spain during the Napoleonic Wars, Wellington's soldiers befriended their French prisoner "equals" and scorned the brave Spanish insurgents, the original guerrillas.) In Puerto Rico, Spain transferred power directly to the U.S., in a closed ceremony in which the only Puerto Rican was a translator. Puerto Rico became what Admiral Mahan had yearned for it to be when he wrote in The Influence of Sea Power upon History: Malta to Cuba's Egypt, or rather to Panama's Suez. 1898, 1899, 2000... These were troubling beginnings. The U.S. would continue
to prefer myth to fact concerning Puerto Rico and Cuba, even as the trajectory
of the two islands remained strangely intertwined. In 2000, both principles
remain true. In Vieques and Little Havana, civil disobedience and mass
demonstrations became the deliberate, strategic form of struggle for the
first time. Even "Big" Havana joined in: the day of the largest bring-Elián-home
march in Cuba, February 21, 2000, was also in San Juan the day of the
largest pro-Vieques march-with over 120,000 participants, it was probably
the largest march ever in Puerto Rico. The Elián "rescue operation" in
Little Havana was the prelude to the "removal" of protesters on the Navy
bombing range in Vieques. In the famous photo, Elián was carried out by
an INS agent whose mother is Puerto Rican. A number of Cuban federal marshals
participated in the Vieques operation. The Navy, many of whose men probably revere The Message to García, doesn't even need a Cold War to justify its $21 billion budget. If we are to believe the image, the Navy is smarter than the Army and more encompassing than the Air Force (the Navy has a zillion planes, but how many ships does the Air Force have?). The Navy even has the fourth branch of the Armed Forces under its wing: the Marine Corps. The Navy will be the last to get the message from Vieques. The Navy claims that Vieques is essential to the readiness of its forces. On the eve of World War I it was called "preparedness," a term which Randolph Bourne defined memorably as "thinly disguised militarism." The Navy's need for Vieques is highly questionable. Ostensibly, the Atlantic Fleet cannot survive without Vieques; yet the Pacific Fleet does not have a Vieques-like range, and seems to be doing well. But the Navy's need for Vieques is hardly the only consideration. For decades, Vieques has been bombed, from air, land, and sea by the Navy and the Marine Corps as no other community under the American flag... or abroad. There may be other bombing ranges with populated areas at some proximity -the civilians in Vieques are only eight miles away from the live-fire range-but there the similarities end. First, Vieques is an island, and that does make a difference. Vieques' population has more limited mobility in daily life, and so they need their island's full territory all the more. There are no other inhabited islands, within or without the U.S., with bombing ranges. Very few U.S. commentators have bothered to recognize this simple fact. Even in Hawai'i's island of Kaho'olawe, which was uninhabited, bombing was stopped in 1994. The population density of Vieques' civilian third, sandwiched between the two large Navy blocs of land, is over 600 inhabitants per square mile; the island's area is 51 square miles. And the Navy brings minimal economic benefits to Vieques: its payroll there, mostly contract security guards for the range, is less than $3 million; one of the guards for hire was killed in April 1999 by two errant bombs. A sizeable Navy base, Roosevelt Roads, exists ten miles away on the main island of Puerto Rico, but this brings hardly any benefits to the viequenses themselves... and not many to the residents around Roosevelt Roads. The Sound of Freedom In the Eglin Air Force base in Florida, often invoked by the Navy as an area where live bombings are heard by the local population, the economic impact of the base is over $5 billion a year. Moreover, Eglin's surrounding area developed largely as a result of the Air Force's presence; much of the population is connected to (or was formerly in) the armed forces. This last point may especially surprise news analysts, who do not appear to know that Vieques was a real community with a population of over 11,000 in 1941, before the Navy stormed in. Most U.S. bombing ranges, especially those with air-to-ground
fire, lie deep within immense bases between five and ten times the size
of Vieques. They often adjoin large national forests or wilderness reserves
that further isolate the ranges. Eglin's, at 745 square miles, is the
size of the Caribbean island of Guadéloupe; Dare Bombing Range, North
Carolina, with 132 square miles, adjoins two large national wildlife refuges
extending a further 250 square miles. Georgia's Ft. Stewart (438 square
miles ), and North Carolina's Camp Lejeune (244 square miles) and Ft.
Bragg (204 square miles) are all far larger than Vieques island. The Navy
bombing at Pinecastle, in north-central Florida (9 square miles), unlike
the others, is not inside a large base, but is well surrounded by the
Ocala National Forest (598 square miles). Avon Park, in south-central
Florida, is also a stand-alone range but it's adjacent to a large state
reserve. Avon Park had 342 square miles until the 1960s, when that was
cut down to 172 square miles, probably in order to justify the bombings
in Puerto Rico. In the East Coast, the large bombing ranges are all in the
South. In the West, they are in the high desert, and are even larger on
average: Nellis, Nevada, home of Area 51, measures 4,687 square miles,
i.e., 1.3 times the area of Puerto Rico. Also larger then Puerto Rico
are China Lake, California, (1,719 square miles), the Barry M. Goldwater
Air Force Range, Arizona (4,167 square miles), and White Sands, New Mexico
(4,000 square miles). And there's also the huge Utah Test and Training
Facility (19,000 square miles). The only ship-to-shore range in the U.S. is on San Clemente,
an island without a permanent population off the California coast. Puerto
Ricans, who have long been told about the small size of their island and
their meager resources, are surprised to find Puerto Rico, and particularly
Vieques, in the same league as these immense military facilities. The Navy's spokesmen often even overlook the fact that in
many of the live-fire bombing ranges in the U.S. cited by Pentagon spokesmen
are artillery ranges, including Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Ft. Sill is a favorite
reference of Senator James Inhofe of the Armed Forces Committee's Subcommittee
on Readiness and a leading proponent of back-to-bombing for Vieques. Crucially,
Vieques is also an air-to-ground range, as well as a ship-to-shore range.
This vastly increases noise and vibrations, as well as the opportunities
for accidents; indeed, danger is increased because the Navy prefers to
carry out all its different types of exercises, including Normandy-style
amphibious landings, at the same time. Finally, the proposed Vieques referendum, ordered by President
Clinton and endorsed by Governor Pedro Rossello, is not enough. The referendum
offers only two alternatives: three years of inert bombings with $40 million
in economic development aid to Vieques, then full cessation; or indefinite
live-fire bombing, with an additional grant of $50 million. Some choice.
In true message-to-García mode, most U.S. commentators seem not to notice
the absence of a third alternative in the proposed referendum: full and
immediate cessation of all bombing-or rather, non-renewal of the bombings
(though the Navy claims it renewed them on May 9, 2000). Cese inmediato
y permanente was indeed the slogan. It was also the public policy of the
Rossello administration in the early stages of the controversy. Sadly,
it is the Puerto Rican government, under pressure by the U.S. Navy, which
abruptly changed course as the Clinton directives were being drafted in
late 1999; the bulk of public opinion in Puerto Rico has not. What was
only recently public policy, characterized by Governor Rosselló before
Congress as "nonnegotiable" and as a question of human rights, is now
claimed to have been merely a bargaining position. To offer the viequenses so poor a choice-a vote between
three years of inert bombing, and an indefinite period of years of live
bombing- is a bit like allowing Elián to pick a family, with only Lázaro
González and his daughter Marisleysis as possible choices. It is as if
the child had been forbidden to express any preference about remaining
with his father or returning to Cuba. Vieques, known in Puerto Rico as
la Isla Nena, crosses paths with el balserito. Just as the Elián González controversy may help Cuba (and
the Miami Cuban exile community) move toward democracy, so Vieques may
help Puerto Rico move toward sovereignty. And this does not necessarily
mean independence. The process is only beginning, its outcome uncertain.
But there is a precedent: "Stride toward freedom," Martin Luther King
said. For African-Americans the massive civil-disobedience campaigns of
the 1950s and 1960s were the threshold both of black separatism and of
greater assimilation. In 1958, King knew that the movement and his generation
had "to complete a process of democratization which our nation has too
long developed too slowly." Offshore, center stage In 1898, Rowan and Whitney convinced themselves that Cubans and Puerto Ricans saw the world as Americans did, that is, largely in terms of the U.S. In a modern, eerily abstract replay of 1898, in 2000 the U.S. once again invaded Cuba and Puerto Rico, or rather two "offshore" spaces-Little Miami and Vieques-that, precisely because of their eccentric location, are all the more central to the larger communities. As in 1898, all manner of internal alliances and causes suggest themselves to the American public. Once again, there is no shortage of Cubans or Puerto Ricans who will cheer the U.S., the ever eager bull, into the china shop. Puerto Rico and Cuba are once again intertwined, now in more complex ways, as they begin to storm the Wall. The more committed activists among the Cuban exile community
in Miami and the Puerto Rico pro-Vieques groups have in the past occupied
the furthest reaches of the Latino right and left under the American flag.
Castro has been a devil to the former, a hero to the latter. For both
groups, the recent controversies have brought civil disobedience to the
fore, in the streets of Miami and on the beaches of Vieques, eclipsing
the forms of armed struggle that were formerly endorsed by the Miami Cubans
and the Puerto Rican independentistas. Civil disobedience was, after all,
decisive in Berlin: the charge was led by a huge traffic jam of thousands
of East German motorists. However, the anti-Castro exiles missed the beat on civil
disobedience and, in the end, remained prisoners of their past: the González
house was turned into a bunker. The Cuban exiles have quickly become a
strident fringe even within Miami, as more realistic Cubans dare to speak
up. In Puerto Rico, civil disobedience has remained a firm strategy. An
open dialogue also continues among the very diverse pro-Vieques sectors.
Vieques has ceased to be an independentista and local viequense issue,
becoming instead a truly broad-based cause with a slogan: Paz para Vieques.
Somewhat to their own surprise, Vieques activists have over the past year
become the majority in Puerto Rico. History continues. De un pajaro's left wing and right... There is more irony here than Americans might initially
grasp. The Miami Cubans' reach long extended to Puerto Rico, where a large
Cuban community also exists, and where el exilio de Miami fed a climate
of intolerance towards criticism of the bombing of Vieques or any other
aspect of U.S. colonial rule. On Puerto Rican issues, and especially vis-à-vis
Washington, the Miami Cubans were top dog. An eloquent example: in the
previous round of Vieques-Navy conflict in 1978-80, the Puerto Rico Bar
Association, which was charged with being anti-American, etc. for its
pro-Vieques stance, was bombed by the Navy's public-relations officer
in Puerto Rico, who happened to be a Cuban exile. The powerful issues
involved in the intertwined Puerto Rican and Cuban controversies-family
and territory-perplex our politics, and underscore the depth and openness
of the moment. Recent events call for more than role reversal. The challenge
before the pro-Vieques groups is whether they are now up to the task of
being a majority that includes many who are not necessarily independentistas,
and which is in full flux. They show signs of moving in that direction.
If we again invoke U.S. history, the moment may be a familiar one: Puerto
Rico is living its Stamp Act crisis. As in 1765-6, the Washington parliament
is reluctantly, inevitably lumbering toward repeal of all bombing via
a genuine referendum. The Cuban exiles and their Puerto Rican allies are
a bit like befuddled Tories. The ground is moving under us. The implications for Latinos
under the U.S. flag, and beyond, are considerable. When a contemporary
of Hubbard's, Puerto Rican poet Lola Rodríguez de Tió wrote that Cuba
and Puerto Rico are two wings of the same bird (de un pájaro las dos alas),
she never imagined that the bird would one day be 32 million Latinos living
under the United States flag, sharing a vast diasporic culture with many
more millions in the Caribbean and Latin America. The story of Elián is fast becoming as popular as García's-or
rather Rowan's-a century ago. How Americans read that story is not clear.
Happily, Elián has been reunited with his father; at least part of Elián's
message came through. But little children are easier to take action on
than bombing ranges-at least as long as child and father remain in the
USA. The message from Vieques has been far less understood by Americans,
if we are to judge from network coverage and Internet polls. To them,
Vieques is all about Pentagon readiness. It is not. It's about Viequense
rights, Navy rule, and an authoritarian referendum. In fact, it's not
really about readiness for the Navy. The Navy is more concerned about
the prospect of protests against bombing ranges elsewhere, and about accepting
responsibility for cleaning up the ordnance junkyard it created in eastern
Vieques. Vieques is not about readiness, and it's not about being
anti-American. It's not even about being anti-Navy. It's about being pro-Vieques
and pro-Puerto Rico. Vieques is not about you; it's about us. The message
that General García tried to send in 1898, that Elián bears now, and that
the protesters at Camp García are sending a century later, has not yet
arrived. |