News
Garber Announces Advisory Committee for Harvard Law School Dean Search
News
First Harvard Prize Book in Kosovo Established by Harvard Alumni
News
Ryan Murdock ’25 Remembered as Dedicated Advocate and Caring Friend
News
Harvard Faculty Appeal Temporary Suspensions From Widener Library
News
Man Who Managed Clients for High-End Cambridge Brothel Network Pleads Guilty
A FEW thousand Puerto Ricans, some of the people who live and work along Second Avenue, and several score police know about the march that took place in New York City last Friday. The reason why no one else does may have a lot to do with the reason it happened.
The demonstration, marching for the independence of Puerto Rico from the United States, hoped to bring a massive group of Puerto Ricans to the United Nations building to demand immediate independence of their homeland, withdrawal of U. S. military forces and nuclear arms for the island, and freedom for the political prisoners involved in independence struggles. October 30 was chosen as the date of the march, commemorating the twentieth anniversary of one such struggle, in which 25 Puerto Ricans were killed, 37 were taken prisoner, and over a thousand were wounded by Americans forces.
But the mood of the march was more spirited than mournful. Most of the marchers were young, perhaps because it was a workday; but it was not the typical demonstration of white, middle-class radical students. The majority were unmistakably Puerto Rican, and the ghettoes they marched from were their homes, not an adopted cause.
Hundreds of the single-starred Puerto Rican flags-suggestively like the Cuban flag with its colors reversed-waved from poles or decorated clothing. Berets were of nearly as many colors as there were shades of people present. Hardly a moment was silent between chants-almost exclusively in Spanish-rejecting the draft for Puerto Rican men, supporting "anti-imperialist" revolutions, or simply proclaiming "Viva Puerto Rico libre." The chants were often accompanied by raised fists; but the fists occasionally turned to fingers when the march happened by a United States flag.
The juxtaposition of U. S. and Puerto Rican flags is painfully symbolic to many Puerto Ricans. A song in Spanish, started by someone toward the end of the march and joined by almost everyone nearby, translates:
What a beautiful flag,
The Puerto Rican flag.
I'd like to see her alone-
Without her chaperone.
The United States flag has flown over Puerto Rico since 1898, when a weakened Spain lost the last traces of her empire. Before that time Puerto Rico had gained partial autonomy form Spain; the island had its own constitution, civil government, and treasury. The United States at first replaced the civil government with a military one and removed a third of the treasury; since that time she has stifled several attempted independence movements.
MANY Americans-including perhaps the lady who stood at her window, defying taunts and boos, to wave her U. S. flag at Friday's march-find it difficult to understand why anyone would want independence from their country. The British must have felt the same way once; and the comparison is not empty. Puerto Ricans pay taxes to the United States of America and they are obliged to serve in her army; Puerto Rico's laws are made ultimately by the United States Congress, to which the island has one non-voting representative. A United Nations resolution requires all countries holding colonies to report periodically their progress toward independence, but Puerto Rico's recent classification as a "commonwealth" frees the United States from such obligations even if it makes little difference in the island's actual position.
Along with the American-controlled government, 85 per cent of the industry and commerce on the island is controlled by United States business concerns which enjoy tax-free status. The explanation often used to justify their tax benefits is that the businesses are helping to "develop" the island and raise its standard of living; such development, however, has not prevented substandard wages and heavy unemployment from sending more than a fourth of the population to the slums of United States cities seeking a better living. Puerto Rico remains twice as poor as the poorest state in the Union.
Even more than the businesses, the United States military makes its presence felt. There are nine military bases in Puerto Rico occupying about 13 per cent of the land, among this some of the best arable land and some of the best harbors. Installations include a Strategic Air Command base, a Green Beret training camp, an atomic submarine base, and an atomic arsenal.
Obviously the effects of the United States presence in Puerto Rico have not been all bad, and it would be unjust to ignore the growth and diversification of the economy and the improvements in literacy and health care which have taken place in the past years-although these have not helped all segments of society equally. Many people-and perhaps a majority of Puerto Ricans-suggest statehood as a solution for the island's ills. As a state, Puerto Rico would gain true representation in Congress and increased control over its own affairs.
BUT THE marchers on October 30 wanted not statehood but complete independence from the United States. They sensed that a vote or two in Congress will not do away with the army bases, will not prevent their men from being sent to wars waged by a people with different ideals than theirs, will not allow them full self-determination.
The need to have and govern one's own country may seem a petty consideration to people whose country became independent two hundred years ago. But the Puerto Rican people did not discover and settle the United States, and none of them fought to establish this nation. Their ties to the United States are recent and involuntary, and the slogans they chant reflect a closer kinship with the poorer nations that have broken away than with the richer ones that boast success and power. And so last Friday they marched, militantly but without guns; not disguised at night to throw the tea overboard but openly at noon to announce their intent to the ambassadors of the world.
The demonstration never reached the pages of the New York Times, possibly because the marchers-not unlike Puerto Rico itself-never reached the United Nations. They remained corralled within police lines a block or so away, out of sight of the diplomats, waiting for power for their speaker system. But something in the feeling of the crowd said that people do not wait for power forever.
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.