A universal struggle

"Probably nowhere in the world do two countries as different as Mexico and the United States live side by side," and "probably nowhere in the world do two neighbors understand each other so little." That's what Alan Riding wrote in his book "Distant Neighbors".

I thought of that book as the Caravan for Peace started in Tijuana and concluded in Washington, D.C.  The Caravan was launched by Mexico's Movement for Peace and Justice with Dignity, and a number of U.S. organizations joined in, Global Exchange foremost among them.  The month-long journey led by poet Javier Sicilia skirted along the only border where the First World meets the Third World.  Upon reaching the Gulf of Mexico the Caravan turned northeast to Houston, on to Atlanta, and from there it went north to Chicago, east to New York and south to Baltimore and Washington.  

The Caravan had five themes: stop arms trafficking from the U.S. to Mexico, stop the drug war initiated forty years ago by President Nixon, stop the laundering of drug money, refocus U.S. foreign aid to social programs, and make U.S. immigration policy more humane. 

Two busses with the Caravan name and emblem on their sides, one in English the other in Spanish, led the procession of cars, vans, and campers on the 6,000 mile journey through twenty-six cities.  Most of the riders were people who had lost family members to the war on drugs.  Others joined in support.  Some people made the whole trip, others joined along the way for as long as they had time available.

Meetings were held in churches, in university auditoriums, on the steps of government buildings, and in public parks.  Members of the Caravan gave their testimonies. The hosts gave theirs. The effects of the war on drugs on both sides of the border were searing and evident.  Marches linked symbolic and historic places. 

I joined the Caravan at Riverside Church in uptown Manhattan across the street from Ulysses Grant's Tomb.  Javier Sicilia, a leader of the Justice and Peace Caravan, referred to Grant as a president with a strong Mexican connection. As a young U.S. Army officer he had fought in the Mexican-American War.  Yet in his memoirs Grant wrote of that war as a massive land grab.  “For myself, I was bitterly opposed to the measure, and to this day regard the war, which resulted, as one of the most unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation. It was an instance of a republic following the bad example of European monarchies, in not considering justice in their desire to acquire additional territory.”  In Mexico school children learn that Mexico lost half its territory in the "North American Invasion".  Interestingly, over the entrance of Grant's Tomb are inscribed the words "Let Us Have Peace."  

At the conclusion of the presentations, speeches, and remarks I heard at Riverside Church, hundreds of participants gathered outside for a candlelight march to St. Cecilia's Church in the heart of Harlem.  We walked past the Apollo Theater along streets with names of people who had also demanded changes: Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard, Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard, Malcom X Boulevard. 

At the City University of New York, documentary filmmaker Eugene Jarecki presented parts of his film "The House I Live In", this year's Best Documentary at the Sundance Film Festival.  With all of it set in the United States, the film's theme is to treat drug addiction as a public health issue, not a criminal issue. 

Another U.S. president stuck in my mind on the Caravan. President Dwight D. Eisenhower is credited with establishing the Interstate and Defense Highway System -- known as today's Interstates -- that the Caravan's busses drove on.  He promoted a highway network paid with Defense Department funds that would further defense and at the same time serve the people right at home.  How much commerce travels over those highways today? 

It was heartening that in Washington members of the caravan met with members of both houses of Congress, with Maria Otero, the Undersecretary of State for Human Rights, and with leaders of various churches.  Memorable to me is that at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial we met with the Council of Elders of the 20th Century Civil Rights Movement.  Bernice Johnson Reagon, founder and vocalist of the music group Sweet Honey on the Rock told us "your struggle is our struggle, your victory is our victory" and she added, "wherever you go you must sing, and you must say your name so the air will know you are there." At that event she sung for us, and then shouted, "I am Bernice!" and the Elders shouted "Yeah!"  Around the big circle we went, each shouting our name and everyone responding with "Yeah!"  To all at the rally we were no longer anonymous -- we had names -- symbolic of the Caravan on which Mexicans and USns had been embracing and sharing their stories for a month.  I think people on both sides of the border got to know each other a bit better through the Caravan. I wish Alan Riding had been there to see it.

Patriotism in Chapultepec

Entering Mexico City from the south, signs point off to the right to the military academy.  The name of the institution is always preceeded by the capital letter H, for Heroic -- an award given to it by Congress after the heroic defense of Chapultepec Castle on September 13, 1847, during what the U.S. refers to as the Mexican-American War, known in Mexico as the North American Invasion -- 164 years ago today.  

Though the H. Colegio Militar's campus abuts the highway, the first indication it is an army installation is not a sign but six eagles on a rocky ledge found just north of the toll booth.  These eagles never fly away.  They are concrete eagles representing the Niños Heroes, six heroic cadets who died in defense of the Military Academy when it was attacked and seized by U.S. soldiers and marines.  The current location of the Heróico Colegio Militar dates from 1976.  In 1847 the institution was located in Chapultepec Castle, atop Chapultepec Hill, considered by ancient Mesoamericans to be one of the four sacred mountains in the Valley of Mexico (the others being the Cerro de Tepeyac, location of the Basilica of Guadalupe; the Peñon de los Baños overlooking the Mexico City airport; and the Cerro de la Estrella in southern Mexico City).  

Accounts of the battle for Chapultepec Castle vary, not just from the points of view of the opposing sides, but also in the way each side remembers the battle.  The account I prefer is that upon being told that an attack by the U.S. Army and Marines was imminent, six cadets signed entered into solemn pact to never surrender.  If necessary they would offer their lives in defense of both their institution and their nation.  Other cadets also fought heroically but were either killed in battle or taken prisoner.  When the last of the six heroes realized he couldn't possibly hold off the enemy by himself, he lowered the flag, wrapped himself in it and jumped off the cliff.  

Mexican school children know the names of the six heroic cadets by heart. Los Ninos ranged in age from 14 to 20.  School children know who the oldest and youngest were; they know it was Juan Escutia who wrapped himself in the flag.  

The Mexican-American War is glossed over in US elementary and secondary educational textbooks, probably for the same reasons President Grant expressed in his memoirs, writing of the war as a massive land grab.  “For myself, I was bitterly opposed to the [annexation of Texas], and to this day regard the war, which resulted, as one of the most unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation. It was an instance of a republic following the bad example of European monarchies, in not considering justice in their desire to acquire additional territory.”

Nevertheless U.S. school children do learn the Marine Anthem though I would be very surprised if many of them know the “Halls of Montezuma” is, in fact, Chapultepec Castle. To this day, tradition maintains that the bright red stripe running the length of the outside of the trouser leg of the U.S. Marine dress uniform is a reminder of Marine blood shed at Chapultepec Castle.

Each September 13th the Mexican President, along with representatives of the Mexican legislative and judicial branches of the federal government, accompanied by H. Colegio Militar cadets, lay wreaths to honor the Niños Heroes at the Altar a la Pátria monument  located at the base of Chapultepec Hill.  The monument includes six marble columns, each topped by an eagle with outstretched wings.  In fact if you see six of any type of monument in Mexico -- columns, obelisks, flagpoles -- it is likely to be a symbolic representation of the Niños Heroes.

Visiting heads of state often lay wreaths at the monument.  Understandably, it isn't common for U.S. Presidents to do so.  Nevertheless President Truman, in 1947, and President Clinton in 1997, included wreath laying ceremonies in their schedules.  U.S. Ambassador Patrick Lucey, appointed by President Carter, earned goodwill, making his first official act placement of a wreath in honor of the Niños Heroes. 

Rumor has it that the new U.S. Ambassador to Mexico, Earl Anthony Wayne, will present his credentials today at the National Palace.