America Discovers Columbus

I asked my 10-year-old brother what he had learned in school about Columbus. “Well,” he said with confidence, “his ships were the Niña, the Pinta, and the Mayflower…” I told him I didn’t think the Mayflower was one of the ships on Columbus’s voyage to America. Then I asked him what Columbus did once he got to America. “He met some Indians and the Indians died,” my brother replied. Perhaps this answer has something to do with the way my parents raised us, but it seemed at odds with what I learned about Columbus in school 10 years ago. I distinctly remember being force-fed a thinly-disguised nationalism in the form of songs, rhymes, and plays. I remember it was 1492 that Columbus sailed the ocean blue, that he was a humble Italian sailor, and that he discovered America. All in all, it seems as though we have moved away from this glorified account of Columbus’s exploits. But if we are so far removed from the towering cultural invention of Columbus the hero, why does Columbus Day still exist at all?

Columbus Day was made a national holiday in 1934 by Franklin D. Roosevelt, class of 1904. John F. Kennedy ’40 revived it in 1963 to generate enthusiasm for space research with the proclamation: “we continue to honor Columbus’ daring as we search out the far reaches of space and of human possibility.” It is only in the past two decades that indigenous peoples and revisionist historians have objected to the celebration of Columbus Day, calling attention to the less-than-glorious eradication of the Indians that began when Columbus claimed the Caribbean islands for Spain. In Venezuela, Columbus was literally toppled on Columbus Day of 2004, when young protestors tore down a prominent Columbus statue and dragged it through the streets of Caracas. In Denver, Native Americans have been dutifully protesting the city’s Columbus Day parade since 1989.

Today, Columbus should by all means have made the list of things deemed politically incorrect. But Columbus floats in limbo between public reverence and public outrage. Children learn that some Indians died when he came to America, but not that, as Spain’s first viceroy in the New World, Columbus was directly responsible for their deaths. And we still honor this man with a holiday in his name.

In short, we just can’t quit him. I believe this has something to do with America’s historical insecurity as a relatively “new” nation lacking the historical muscle of the Old World. We have built up this mythical personage of Columbus as the embodiment of our American values of perseverance and ingenuity. Every country must have its creation myths, of course. Many of them are untrue. But most countries recognize them for what they are: cultural embroidery, not historical fact. For modern Americans to believe that Columbus was a hero and an honorable man is as ludicrous as modern Romans believing that Romulus and Remus were really raised by wolves. The image of a dashing Columbus crossing a storm-tossed ocean to bring knowledge and Christianity to the savages of the West may be hard for some to abandon. Indeed, it is always hard to see a god come crashing down, even a false one. I, however, would like to think that we have moved far enough beyond the age of imperialism to survive without an annual celebration of Western superiority.

It takes time for cultural attitudes to change, and even more time for history books to be rewritten and educational methods changed. But the vague, ambivalent history lesson children receive today is unacceptable. They should learn more than the names of two of Columbus’s ships. They should learn the truth: that Columbus came to steal and conquer, not to explore and discover. That a place cannot be discovered when people are already living there. That Columbus was responsible for the death of an estimated 8 million Indians in the Caribbean alone. Though we may be ashamed of it, though it may frighten us, it does a disservice to the nation as a whole to conceal the truth, be it out of egotism or ambivalence.

Of course, it is easier said than done to begin teaching the truth in elementary history classes, especially when so much of it is uncertain or interwoven with fable. There is one thing that can be done in the immediate future, however: We must abolish Columbus Day. Not the national holiday itself; I enjoy the day off as much as anyone else. Rather, we should turn Columbus Day into a holiday that honors all American peoples. In Berkeley, for example, Columbus Day was already replaced with Indigenous Peoples Day in 1992. In parts of Latin America, Columbus Day is celebrated as Día de las Razas to mark the beginning of modern Latin America as a mix of indigenous, Spanish, and other populations. It is a liberating thought to turn the holiday into a celebration of all the peoples that make up America today, when for so long it has stood for just the opposite.


Marina S. Magloire ’11, a Crimson editorial writer, is a history and literature concentrator in Kirkland House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.