[Two hundred
years ago this week, the U.S.
declared war on the North African nation of Algiers, leading to the unremembered
conflict about which I wrote in Monday’s post. That
Second Barbary War is one of many such forgotten wars in American history,
and I’ll also highlight and AmericanStudy others for the remainder of the week’s
posts. Leading up to a special weekend post responding to a relevant recent
piece by one of my model AmericanStudiers.]
On two conflicts
that are all too representative, and how to remember them specifically nonetheless.
In one of the
many snarky and pointed footnotes in his novel The
Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (2008), Junot Díaz (or perhaps his
narrator Yunior, it’s never quite clear who authors those footnotes and
cases can be made for either man) writes, of the 1965-1966
U.S. invasion and occupation of the Dominican Republic, that “Santo Domingo
was Iraq before Iraq was Iraq.” The same could be said of many other 20th
century U.S. occupations, including another of the Dominican
Republic (between 1916 and 1924), a handful of occupations of
Cuba between the Spanish American War and the Communist Revolution, and of course
the South Asian conflicts in both the
Philippines and (most famously and most frequently
compared to Iraq) Vietnam. Indeed, few histories seem as consistently
central to the American
Century as the occupying, conflicted, controversial, enduring presence of
U.S. military forces around the globe.
In many ways,
the 1909-1910
and 1912-1925
U.S. occupations of Nicaragua simply exemplify those enduring histories. Just
look at some of the quotes from those relevant years on the Stanford timeline
at that first link: “U.S. troops impose a puppet government”; the puppet ruler “requests
U.S. military assistance to control civil unrest,” but “Nicaraguans resist U.S.
occupation and the national hero, Benjamin Zeledón, dies”; as a result of their
presence in the nation “the U.S. acquires the right to build” canals and naval
bases there, “provoking anti-North American sentiment and guerilla warfare in
Nicaragua, and eliciting protests from other Central American countries”; “when
U.S. forces withdraw, rebellions ensue; the marines return to quell the
disturbances”; and so on and so forth. Four different presidents, from both
parties, led the U.S. during those decades, but in Nicaragua, as in so many
other places around the world before and since, the story remained the same. Plus
ça change, plus c’est la même chose, as our French friends (no strangers to 20th
century international occupations
themselves, of course) might put it.
Yet at the same
time, lumping all such international occupations together is a limited and ultimately
problematic thing to do: for lots of reasons, but mostly because it reduces
these specific situations and histories, and even more so these individual
nations and communities, to interchangeable parts of an ongoing pattern. Take Benjamin Zeledón,
for example, the lawyer, politican, and military leader who was killed by U.S.
Marines in 1912, at the age of 33, while leading
the fight to depose the U.S.-backed (and perceived U.S. puppet) President
Adolfo Díaz. Zeledón seems to have a great deal in common with José
Martí, but with one crucial difference: Martí led Cuba’s fight against Spanish
occupation, aligning him with the U.S. (as did his prior years of exile in
America); while Zeledón’s battle was against U.S. occupiers and their
Nicaraguan allies. Perhaps that’s one reason why nearly all of the web pieces I
could find on Zeledón, including the two to which I’ve linked above, are
written in Spanish; remembering this man and his story, including it in our
U.S. histories, would force us to think about the effects of our Nicaraguan
occupations in a tangible and unsettling way. I’d say it’s long past time we
did so.
Last forgotten
war tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other under-remembered conflicts you’d highlight?
Perhaps the rise of the United Fruit Company in Central America would support the economic influences on American Foreign Policy during this period...
ReplyDeleteTotally agreed, Jon! Thanks for adding that comment and thought to the mix.
ReplyDeleteBen