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OPEN LETTER FROM JOSE MARTI
TO THE EDITOR
OF THE NEW YORK EVENING POST
By José
Martí
Letter to the editor,
New York Evening Post,
March 25, 1889
La Nueva Cuba
January 28, 2006
Sir:
I beg to be
allowed the privilege of referring in your columns to the injurious
criticism of the Cubans printed in the Manufacturer of Philadelphia,
and reproduced in your issue of yesterday.
This is not
the occasion to discuss the question of the annexation of Cuba.
It is probable that no self-respecting Cuban would like to see his
country annexed to a nation where the leaders of opinion share towards
him the prejudices excusable only to vulgar jingoism or rampant
ignorance. No honest Cuban will stoop to be received as a moral
pest for the sake of the usefulness of his land in a community where
his ability is denied, his morality insulted, and his character
despised. There are some Cubans who, from honorable motives, from
an ardent admiration for progress and liberty, from a prescience
of their own powers under better political conditions, from an unhappy
ignorance of the history and tendency of annexation, would like
to see the island annexed to the United States. But those who have
fought in war and learned in exile, who have built, by the work
of hands and mind, a virtuous home in the heart of an unfriendly
community; who by their successful efforts as scientists and merchants,
as railroad builders and engineers, as teachers, artists, lawyers,
journalists, orators, and poets, as men of alert intelligence and
uncommon activity, are honored wherever their powers have been called
into action and the people are just enough to understand them; those
who have raised,with their less prepared elements, a town of workingmen
where the United States had previously a few huts in a barren cliff;
those, more numerous than the others, do not desire the annexation
of Cuba to the United States. They do not need it. They admire this
nation, the greatest ever built by liberty, but they dislike the
evil conditions that, like worms in the heart, have begun in this
mighty republic their work of destruction. They have made of the
heroes of this country their own heroes, and look to the success
of the American commonwealth as the crowning glory of mankind; but
they cannot honestly believe that excessive individualism, reverence
for wealth, and the protracted exultation of a terrible victory
are preparing the United States to be the typical nation of liberty,
where no opinion is to be based in greed, and no triumph or acquisition
reached against charity and justice. We love the country of Lincoln
as much as we fear the country of Cutting.
We are not the
people of destitute vagrants or immoral pigmies that the Manufacturer
is pleased to picture; nor the country of petty talkers, incapable
of action, hostile to hard work, that, in a mass with the other
countries of Spanish America, we are by arrogant travelers and writers
represented to be. We have suffered impatiently under tyranny; we
have fought like men, sometimes like giants, to be freemen; we are
passing that period of stormy repose, full of germs of revolt, that
naturally follows a period of excessive and unsuccessful action
. . .we deserve in our misfortune the respect of those who did not
help us in our need.
. . .[B]ecause
the healthier farmer, ruined by a war seemingly useless, turns in
silence to the plough that he knew well how to exchange for the
machete; because thousands of exiles, profiting by a period of calm
that no human power can quicken until it is naturally exhausted,
are practicing in the battle of life in the free countries the art
of governing themselves and of building a nation; because our half-breeds
and city-bred young men are generally of delicate physique, of suave
courtesy, and ready words, hiding under the glove that polishes
the poem the hand that fells the foe - are we to be considered as
the Manufacturer does consider us, an "effeminate" people?
These city-bred young men and poorly built half-breeds knew in one
day how to rise against a cruel government, to pay their passages
to the seat of war with the pawning of their watches and trinkets,
to work their way in exile while their vessels were being kept from
them by the country of the free in the interest of the foes of freedom,
to obey as soldiers, sleep in the mud, eat roots, fight ten years
without salary, conquer foes with the branch of a tree, die - these
men of eighteen, these heirs of wealthy estates, these dusky striplings
- a death not to be spoken of without uncovering the head. . . These
"effeminate" Cubans had courage enough, in the face of
a hostile government, to carry on their left arms for a week the
mourning-band for Lincoln.
The Cubans have,
according the Manufacturer, "a distaste for exertion";
they are "helpless," "idle." These "helpless,"
"idle" men came here twenty years ago empty-handed, with
very few exceptions; fought against the climate; mastered the language;
lived by their honest labor, some in affluence, a few in wealth,
rarely in misery; they bought or built homes; they raised families
and fortunes; they loved luxury, and worked for it; they were not
frequently seen in the dark roads of life; proud and self-sustaining,
they never feared competition as to intelligence or diligence. .
. In Philadelphia the Manufacturer has a daily opportunity to see
a hundred Cubans, some of them of heroic history and powerful build,
who live by their work in easy comfort. In New York the Cubans are
directors in prominent banks, substantial merchants, popular brokers,
clerks of recognized ability, physicians with a large practice .
. . the "senora" went to work; from a slave-owner she
became a slave, took a seat behind the counter, sang in the churches,
worked button-holes by the hundred, sewed for a living, curled feathers,
gave her soul to duty, withered in work her body. This is the people
of "defective morals."
We are "unfitted
by nature and experience to discharge the obligations of citizenship
in a great and free country." (From the Manufacturer) This
cannot be justly said of a people who possess, besides the energy
that built the first railroad in Spanish dominions and established
against the opposition of the government all the agencies of civilization,
a truly remarkable knowledge of the body politic. . . The political
knowledge of the average Cuban compares well with that of the average
American citizen. Absolute freedom from religious intolerance, the
love of man for the work he creates by his industry, and theoretical
and practical familiarity with the laws and processes of liberty,
will enable the Cuban to rebuild his country from the ruins in which
he will receive it from its oppressors. It is not to be expected,
for the honor of mankind, that the nation that was rocked in freedom,
and received for three centuries the best blood of liberty-loving
men, will employ the power thus acquired in depriving a less fortunate
neighbor of its liberty.
It is, finally,
said that "our lack of manly force and of self-respect is demonstrated
by the supineness with which we have so long submitted to Spanish
oppression, and even our attempts at rebellion have been so pitifully
ineffective that they have risen little above the dignity of farce."
Never was ignorance of history and character more pitifully displayed
than in this wanton assertion. . . A farce! The war that has been
by foreign observers compared to an epic, the upheaval of a whole
country, the voluntary abandonment of wealth, the abolition of slavery
in our first moment of freedom, the burning of our cities by our
own hands, the erection of villages and factories in the wild forests.
. . The struggle has not ceased. The exiles do not want to return.
The new generation is worthy of its sires. Hundreds of men have
died in darkness since the war in the misery of prisons. With life
only will this fight for liberty cease among us. And it is the melancholy
truth that our efforts would have been, in all probability, successfully
renewed, were it not, in some of us, for the unmanly hopes of the
annexationists of securing liberty without paying its price; and
the just fears of others that our dead, our sacred memories, our
ruins drenched in blood would be but the fertilizers of the soil
for the benefit of a foreign plant, or the occasion for a sneer
from the Manufacturer of Philadelphia.
With sincere
thanks for the space you have kindly allowed me, I am, sir, yours
very respectfully,
José
Martí
Cortesía
del pintor cubano, José Ramón Morales
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