At the traditional religious ceremony to mark Chile’s Independence Day today the archbishop of Santiago monsignor Ricardo Ezzati commented on the “crisis of confidence” that Chile had been living in the last few years.

The archbishop focused particularly on politics and education, currently big issues for Chilean society. Recent student protests and the violent confrontations in the 9^th region between mapuches and carabineros show that the country is still facing big social problems.

Ezzati called for “the urgent cooperation and a noble national mobilisation in order to recreate an atmosphere of faith and goodwill that allows mutual trust and collaboration in order to achieve the highest possible common good.”

The president Sebastián Piñera replied to the archbishop’s words asking the public to “eliminate divisions and pointless struggles.” The most expected attitude for the Independence Day according to Piñera is “a deep gratitude for what we have built together, and a sense of deep gratitude for the wonderful country that God gave us.”

On 18^th September, Chile celebrates Independence Day, marking 202 years since independence was declared back in 1810 with the creation of the first national government. Every citizen of the country is obliged to raise the national flag, either outside their home or at the entrance of the office.

After a number of activities throughout the country today, tomorrow, 19^th September, the capital Santiago de Chile will host four military marches.

The Chilean Google page placed an image of the chinchinero and a postmark with the flag as a gift for all the citizens of the country.

The Peruvian community celebrated 191 years of independence from Spain over the weekend with an event on Avenida de Mayo between Chacabuco and Plaza de Mayo. Traditional dancers in colorful dresses twirled down the street to the stage at the base of the Plaza. Ave de Mayo was lined on both side with food vendors and the smells of grilled chicken, freshly fried churros and more tempted hungry passersby to open their wallets and fill their stomachs. Photographer Beatrice Murch was on hand to document a bit of the morning’s festivities.

Viva el Peru proclaims this ribbon on the side of the stand for grilled chicken.

Large bottles of Inca Kola, the bright yellow soda from Peru, are offered for sale in a stand along Avenida de Mayo.

Cakes by Don Beto tempt passersby on an early Sunday morning.

A Porteño checks out a hand-woven blanket for sale.

Sparks fly from the burning coals cooking skewered chicken.

Couples dance a traditional dance in full costume down Avenida de Mayo.

Women proclaim their Peruvian pride with red and white face paint on their cheeks.

The marching band plays the Peruvian national anthem at the base of Plaza de Mayo.

Two Peruvian bikers who custom modified their bikes admire each other's work.

The old traditions and the new media.

Starting old traditions out young.

A young woman poses for the camera during the festivities.

President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner spoke today at the Independence Day Act in the capital city of the province of Tucumán, as part of the festivities celebrated there today. After arriving by plane, President Fernández visited the Historic House of Independence Museum in San Miguel de Tucumán, before leading the Independence Day Act in the company of Vice-President Amado Boudou and Governor of Tucumán José Alperovich.

Fernández began her speech by remembering her late husband and Former President Nestor Kirchner and the model he created for rescuing Argentina from its financial crisis in 2001. She spoke of his first visit as president to Tucumán to celebrate Argentina’s Independence Day: “it was a completely different world and country …it was the moment that Argentina started to lift itself up from its ruins.”

The President discussed the challenges of today’s global economy, the recent financial crises in Europe and the United States, and affirmed that in today’s globalised world, these problems “inevitably lead to repercussions in Argentina.” She talked about her administration’s efforts to counteract these repercussions and ensure a strong national economy, emphasising the government’s commitment to protecting national industry, as well as specific policies like the new Procrear Credit Plan. She reminded Argentines that next month her administration will issue the “Boden 2012” bonds in dollars, which were created in order to remunerate citizens for money lost in the 2001 crisis.

Fernández ended her speech by reminding citizens that the “struggle is not just for economic growth, but rather a growth that comes with equality and equity.” She called for “national unity,” and for Argentines to continue working together on projects of “organisation and solidarity.”

Map of land-locked Paraguay, circa 1875 (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

It is commonly said that the Triple Alliance War, or Guerra Grande (1864-70) was a watershed in the Paraguayan history as it marked the death of hundreds of thousands of Paraguayans, led to significant territorial loss at the hands of the winners, put an end to an autonomous process of development, and was the start of continuous foreign intervention in the country’s political life.

The war, which pitted Paraguay against Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay, had devastating, long-lasting effects on the landlocked country. In fact, the conflict meant the loss of approximately 60% of the Paraguayan population and 90% of the male population. According to the 1871 census, the post-war Paraguayan population was 116,351 inhabitants, including only 28,000 men: a holocaust never seen in the Western hemisphere since independence swept through the region in the 19th century. It was also a tragedy that ended in several paradoxes.

Why the war began

Unlike many Latin American countries, in 1811 Paraguay gained independence without a war. Due to the isolation imposed by dictator Rodriguez de Francia a few years after the declaration of independence, Paraguay achieved a considerable level of economic development, based on national self-sufficiency and almost no contact with other countries. The state had a monopoly over international trade and started to play a commanding position over increasing aspects of the national life.

After the dictator’s death in 1840 and with Carlos Antonio López ruling the country (first as a member of a Consulate, and since 1844 as a president) Paraguay continued deepening the role of the public sector in economic development, while at the same time ending the traditional isolation and started a period of increasing interaction with its bigger neighbours: Brazil and Argentina. Even though both countries recognized the independence of Paraguay in 1843 and 1852 respectively, this increasing interaction brought out into the open the matter of unresolved boundary limits, which had arisen during colonial times, between the Spanish and Portuguese Crowns, and among some Spanish provinces in the New World. Carlos Antonio López was unable to solve this aspect and the situation got even worse during his son, Francisco Solano López’ government (1862-70).

Brazilian soldiers during the war (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

Studies on the Triple Alliance war traditionally focused on the ‘’tangible’’ causes of the conflict, namely: the issue of frontiers inherited from colonial times; the search for a power balance in the Río de la Plata; Brazilian intervention in Uruguay to overthrow the Blanco Party (traditionally allied to López) in favour of the Colorado Party (closely linked to Argentina and Brazil); as well as Francisco Solano López’ inability to understand an increasing complex and tense regional scenario and his excessive confidence on his powerful army. But in recent decades studies have been focusing on the ‘’intangible’’ causes. Among the most important ones are: the role of Great Britain as a strong supporter of the allies against Paraguay; and the Brazilian need for Paraguay to fully guarantee free navigation of the Río Paraguay – essential for reaching and populating its vast western territory (due to the uneven and hilly Brazilian geography, it was very difficult to build railways connecting the coast of Brazil to the west).

Some historians claim that Britain played a key role in the war for very important reasons: one of them is the need to have access to the provision of cotton for its thriving textile manufacturing companies, something that had been in danger due to the outbreak of the American Civil war (1861-65). On the other hand, Paraguay, with its autonomous and self-sufficient economic model, was considered a ‘’black sheep’’ for the dominant logic of world economy based on the ideas of the free market, ideas that were supported and expanded by Britain as the hegemonic power of the time. Arguably, such a bad example against the established world order had to be destroyed and converted into the logic of the free market.

Just an international war?

Paraguayan prisoners at the end of the war (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

There is another paradox as a result of the war: The local understanding of the conflict and the long-standing period of internal Paraguayan fights that arose from 1870 on. Indeed, not only was it an international war but it also brought Paraguayans against Paraguayans. Article 7 of the Secret Treaty of the Triple Alliance said: “Being the war not against the Paraguayan people but against their government, the allies are able to admit in a Paraguayan Legion every citizen of this nation who would want to attend to the overthrowing of said government, and will provide them with the elements they would need, in the form and conditions agreed upon.”

Many Paraguayans who opposed López’ rule and were living in exile, mainly in Buenos Aires, joined the Paraguayan Legion, and with the fall of Asunción in 1869 (one year before the death of López in Cerro Corá) they gained increasing political influence in the post-war years. Nevertheless, the creation of this legion was a hub for an internal division in Paraguay among Lopiztas and antilopiztas, and for overwhelming instability and violence that the country lived during the rest of the 19th century and a great part of the 20th century.

Another Paradox: independence, sovereignty and territorial integrity

Even though Article 8 of the Secret Treaty stated that “the allies commit to respecting the independence, sovereignty and territorial integrity of the Republic of Paraguay. In consequence the Paraguayan people shall choose the government and institutions best suited for them, without incorporating themselves or requesting protection from any of the allies, as a result of the war”, the end of the conflict led in great territorial loses for Paraguay, the killing of a great a percentage of its population, the ransacking of Asunción, and the beginning of a period characterized by the military occupation of the allied forces until 1876 and the establishment of puppet governments.

This fact also opened a period of Paraguay’s pendular foreign policy towards its neighbours: according to the needs of the time and the ideological affinity of the political party in power with Argentina or Brazil (Liberals tended to be more pro-Argentina while Colorados tended to favour a closer relationship with Brazil) there were some periods in which the relationship with one of the bigger neighbours was stronger in detriment to the other one. This also helped spark the rivalry for regional influence between these former allies.

More paradoxes, even in the post-war years

Artist Victor Meirelles' rendition of a fallen Paraguayan soldier (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

As it was mentioned above, the Triple Alliance war meant the devastation of Paraguay, the destruction of an autonomous economic model, the genocide against its population and a degree of political instability and violence never seen before in the country and which long standing recurrence after many decades lead to Alfredo Stroessner’s dictatorship (1954-89). But it also had negative consequences for the region: after the end of the conflict, Argentina and Brazil started to compete for more regional influence.

In spite of the fact that both countries had committed to supporting each other in their territorial claims against Paraguay, after the signature of a treaty in 1872 settling the limits between Paraguay and Brazil, the country put obstacles against Argentina’s aspirations over the complete Chaco. As a consequence, the Irigoyen – Machaín Treaty (1876) signed by Argentina and Paraguay, established the Central Chaco (today the Argentine province of Formosa) as an Argentine territory, being the Northern Chaco divided in two parts, one part under Paraguayan sovereignty and the other one subjected to international arbitration of the US President Rutherford Hayes, whose country remained neutral during the war. In 1878, the arbitration decision was favourable to Paraguay due to the fact that this country produced much more evidence of sovereignty than their Argentine counterparts.

This competition between Argentina and Brazil, and the subsequent distrust of the Paraguayan population towards their former enemies, led to military conflict being the golden rule to relate to the neighbours in the years to come. No economic integration was going to be possible till the end of military governments, in the last decades of the 20th centuries.

In spite of all the terrible consequences for Paraguay, it is possible to say that to some extent, and without being aware of it, the country took revenge on its former enemies:

Alfredo Stroessner, dictator in Paraguay years later as an indirect result of the war (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

In early 1871 the city of Buenos Aires was ravaged by the outbreak of yellow fever epidemic. This episode is remembered as the Great Epidemic of 1871 as it killed almost 15,000 people, according to some estimates, and caused a decrease of a third of the city’s population as thousands of dwellers abandoned the place.

Some historians and sources claim that this epidemic might have been originated in Asunción due to the deplorable condition of the city and the survivors of the war, and could have been brought to the Argentine capital by war veterans who were coming back home by that time.

The war had finished the previous year, but it continued, somewhat, in the way of a sanitary catastrophe.

Another paradox of the conflict is a political one, and it was related to the end of the Empire and the foundation of the Republic in Brazil in 1889. The abolition of slavery in this country the year before is mentioned as one of the causes of the change in the political system as many fazendeiros who resented because they lost their slave workforce, stopped supporting the monarchy and were in favour of a Republican political system. But what is the relationship of the twilight of the monarchy and the Triple Alliance war? A very important one: many Brazilian soldiers were slaves who went to the battlefields with the promise to get their freedom. And with some years of delay the Imperial government honoured its promise.

There is also a paradox that has to do with Britain, the “intangible” cause of the war. Even though this country gained more influence in the region, this was not going to be for so long a time. As a consequence of the war, and with President Hayes’ arbitration, another actor was determined to play a very important role in its hemisphere, displacing the European hegemony: the United States.

The Triple Alliance war ended 142 years ago and it still remains controversial in all the countries which were part of the conflict. There are so many lessons we can learn from this conflict. However, the most important one (incredibly or not in this case) is to learn how to come to terms with the past.

You’ve probably noticed it on government billboards, posters, and emblazoned on building entrances: a pair of hands clasped around a pike topped by a mysterious red form that, from a distance, resembles an upside-down plunger or a psychedelic mushroom, all encircled with ivy, tied up neatly with a turquoise and white bow and imposed over a rising Sun of May.

You probably didn’t know, however, that this is Argentina’s Coat of Arms, a curious ensemble of images and symbols purportedly representing the essence of a nation. The handshake is simple enough to analyse: Handshake = Unity. And it makes sense that it is presided over by the Sun of May, an icon used to commemorate Argentina’s independence from Spain: Handshake + Sun = Unity + Freedom. But the meaning of the rest isn’t so immediately apparent.

On closer observation, it becomes clear that the ‘mushroom/plunger’ is in fact a diminutive red ski cap befitting an elf, but this does little to unlock the meaning of the icon, let alone explain why it is being hoisted on a pike.

The origins of this confounding image are equally mysterious. Originally introduced in 1813 as the seal of the General Constituent Assembly, the design was amended several times before it was re-established in its original form in 1944. The shield’s masterminds are unknown, though figures such as Argentine revolutionary Bernardo de Monteagudo, engraver Juan de Dios Rivera, and Peruvian artist Antonio Isidro de Castro, who was commissioned by President Bernardo Rivadavia, are often credited.

With the shield’s architects no longer alive to elucidate their creation, my own attempts to interpret its meaning were skewed by images of elves in red hats.

Of course, none of this what the designers of the shield intended. After some secondary research, I discovered that the red hat is not for skiers or elves, but a Phrygian cap – one worn by emancipated slaves in Ancient Rome that was popularised by the French Revolutionaries and has since come to connote the pursuit of liberty. The clasped hands are meant to symbolise the unity of Argentina’s provinces and the pike which they hold represents their willingness to defend their freedom and independence. The ivy laurel is an allusion to ancient Greece and symbolizes triumph and glory, while the rising sun of May is supposed to symbolize Argentina’s promise.

If you were already familiar with this explanation, Phrygian caps off to you! Though the real meaning is slightly less colourful than I had hoped and envisioned, I’m glad to have the mystery solved, and especially relieved that the Argentine Coat of Arms doesn’t actually allude to clogged toilets.

On 25th May 2010, Argentina will mark 200 years since the 1810 May Revolution. That date commemorates the movement that led to Argentina breaking away from imperial Spain. But what exactly are they celebrating?

The opening of the Cabildo on the 22 May, 1810 in Buenos Aires where it was decided to overthrow the Viceroy of Span Baltasar Hidalgo de Cisneros

Painting by Pedro Subercaseaux, courtesy of Wikipedia

Cutting Colonial Ties

Before 18th May 1810, Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay and Uruguay were all part of the Viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata, a Spanish colony.

At that time Joseph Bonaparte, brother of Napoleon, was king of Spain. However, he was opposed by the Spanish Supreme Central Junta, a committee of local governments, which resisted him and became a temporary government. The French retaliated and conflict ensued in various parts of Spain.

On the 18th May, British ships arrived in Montevideo, Uruguay, bringing with them news of the precarious state of the Spanish government. A variety of criollo officials met in Buenos Aires on 22nd May 1810 to decide the future of the viceroyalty in light of this news.

They decided that the viceroy, Baltasar Hidalgo de Cisneros, had to step down as Spain was no longer independent and the Spanish government was not the same government that appointed him.

The Primera Junta (First assembly) then stepped in as a provisional government for the provinces of Río de la Plata, to rule in the absence of a king. Cisneros was initially appointed president of the Primera Junta, but eventually resigned as many were discontented with the choice to appoint him.

Following several days of debate, Cornelio Saavedra became the president and the Primera Junta presented itself as the official government on 25th May 1810. This marked the beginning of independence in Argentina.

The Revolution Spreads

Representation of the May Revolution

Courtesy of Wikipedia

The Primera Junta expanded to include members from other provinces and became the Junta Grande. The members claimed to be loyal to the Spanish King, whilst still retaining the right to elect their own authorities rather than having an appointed viceroy, as before.

The Junta Grande then went on to spread its revolutionary ideas in Alto Perú (now Bolivia). From 1810 to 1816, the government was involved in various campaigns, trying to free other cities from the Spanish crown. Following the loss of several campaigns, the Junta Grande was replaced by the Primer Triunvirato (First Triumvirate), which took over Salta and Tucumán. This was followed by a second triumvirate in 1812 and a one-person government in 1814.

When King Ferdinand returned to power in Spain, representatives from all the provinces met for the Congress of Tucumán. There, Argentine independence was officially declared on 9th July 1816.

As news of this spread through South America, similar events occurred in other cities, so this event is also considered to be a starting point for Latin American independence.

However, it wasn’t until 25th May 1819 that the first constitution, drafted by the Congress of Tucumán, became official.

Two Hundred Years On

Today, the 25th of May is celebrated as the Day of the Revolution because it is the date that Argentina first separated itself from the Spanish monarchy. However, there will be events happening throughout the year and in the week leading up to that day. But why the fuss?

Beatriz Valinoti, academic secretary for the history department at the University of Buenos Aires (UBA), explained that these celebrations are more than just a commemoration of history: “Obviously, it is a part of Argentina’s history and it is usual to remember these dates. It is also important for celebrating how far the country has come. The country separated from Spain in 1810 and all these events came to a culmination in 1816, but independence is continuous and changes.

Celebrating 100 years of independence in Buenos Aires in 1910

Courtesy of Wikipedia

“At the 1910 elections, Argentina could celebrate not just its independence, but the fact that it was a country with power, it could export and play a role in the world as a whole.”

This time round, Argentina will also be looking at the rest of the world and deciding what independence means for the country: “Companies within Argentina will play a defining role in deciding how we will be economically independent. We have to think of different types of independence now; Political independence, economic independence and social independence. We have to redefine independence in order to assert ourselves as an independent country.”

It seems clear, then, that this bicentenary will be an opportunity for Argentina not just to remember the past, but also to look to the future. These sentiments were also reflected in President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner’s speech at Venezuela’s bicentenary celebrations: “This bicentennial year finds the people of South America in a new stage of transformation that I call a second independence.

“The first anniversary was very different from this because the region had been consolidated into republics, exporting raw materials to generate wealth and value far away from our lands. The men of 1810… if one analyzes the economic thinking of Manuel Belgrano and Mariano Moreno, they spoke of generating richness in our own countries.

“We must elaborate our own ideas in economic and political matters, and interpret history and that which was left by the men of 1810, which was to achieve Latin American unity as a founding objective for the liberation of our people… Equality must be the hallmark of the Bicentenary and must continue to follow through against all odds, against the powers that want inequality to take power.”

If you want to learn more about Argentine history or see what the government has in store for the future, both the city government and UBA are running a series of events that are open to the public.

Haiti was recently hit by an earthquake measuring 7.3 and killing an estimated 200,000 people. But as Rachel Hall discovers, the island testifies to a chequered past, advanced by triumphs and obstructed by tribulations.

Haiti was the first independent nation in Latin America, the first post-colonial black-led nation in the world and the only country to lead a successful slave rebellion. Yet in its corruption-riddled 200 years of existence Haiti has also suffered 32 coups. This is the beleaguered history to which the Caribbean island testifies, in which the path to progress has been consistently blocked by instability of both government and society.

The statistics are stark: by most economic measures, Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. The francophone island now ranks 149th of 182 countries in the UN Human Development Index. In 2003 about 80% of the population was estimated to be living in poverty, with the average Haitian living on US$2 or less per day. A cultural melting pot of French, African and Spanish influence, Haiti has 50% illiteracy, with over 80% of university graduates having emigrated from the country.

Furthermore, the island is mired in debt. In 2005 Haiti’s total external debt totalled an estimated US$1.3bn, which means that the damage is such that it meets the conditions set out by the IMF and World Bank’s Heavily Indebted Poor Countries programme to qualify for cancellation of its external debt. The situation is so severe that foreign aid makes up approximately 30-40% of the national government’s budget.

Slavery, Revolt, Debt

However it was not always this way. In the 18th century, under French rule, Haiti – then called Saint-Domingue – was the Pearl of the Antilles, one of the richest islands in France’s empire. After the slave revolt, it was upheld as a model for Latin American independence. The island is famed for in 1815 harbouring Simon Bolivar, the South American political leader instrumental to the Latin American struggle for independence, and furnishing him with crucial military and financial assistance.

But this early independence seems to have proven a double-edged sword. According to Stephen Keppel of the Economist Intelligence Unit, the revolution also “ended up destroying the country’s infrastructure and most of its plantations. It wasn’t the best of starts for a fledgling republic”. In exchange for diplomatic recognition from France, the new republic was forced to pay enormous reparations of 150m francs in gold – far more than the country could afford.

Alex Von Tunzelmann, a historian and writer working on a book about the country explains that “to come up with the money, [Haiti] took out huge loans from American, German and French banks, at exorbitant rates of interest. By 1900, Haiti was spending about 80% of its national budget on loan repayments. It ­completely wrecked their economy. By the time the original reparations and interest were paid off, the place was basically destitute and trapped in a ­spiral of debt.”

To add insult to injury, Haiti was further subjected to nearly 20 years of US occupation from 1915 to 1934. The turbulent period was marked by a peasant revolt, accusations of “indiscriminate” killing by US Marines, a series of puppet rulers and violent repressions of political dissent. Although many believe Haiti was in better shape after the occupation than before, some accuse the US of establishing a precarious foundation that condemned the country to a doomed financial structure. A 1922 US$40m loan owed to the US combined with the ownership of the Banque Nationale by a New York bank siphoned the country’s wealth to offshore creditors instead of reinvesting it in Haiti’s economy.

Dictatorship, Corruption, Repression

Yet Haiti’s sufferings have been inflicted by its own leaders as well. The country has consistently ranked among the most corrupt countries in the world on the Corruption Perceptions Index. Its government has been notorious for exploitation ever since the Duvalier dictatorship, widely regarded as one of the most repressive in modern history, from 1957 to 1986. During this period, the island was governed by the mysterious François ‘Papa Doc’ Duvalier, a trained doctor whose cult of personality centred around the idea that “the peasants love their doctor, and I am their Papa Doc”.

‘Papa Doc’ came to power in 1957 off the back of election fraud by the Haitian army, eventually writing into the constitution that he would be “president for life”. The regime based itself on kleptocracy, and citizens and foreign businessmen were pestered for money to support a bizarre project to build a utopian town called ‘Duvalierville’. Papa Doc kept control by ­exploiting Haiti’s traditional belief in voodoo to establish a personal militia, the Tonton Macoutes, said to be zombies that he had raised from the dead. The regime was only dismantled in 1986, when protests against his son and successor ‘Baby Doc’ led the US to exile Jean-Claude Duvalier’s to France.

Democracy and Disappointment

Dictatorship gave way to democracy and in December 1990, the former priest Jean-Bertrand Aristide, a radical populist, became Haiti’s first freely elected president. But in September 1991 he was overthrown by soldiers in a bloody coup and exiled to the US.

Chaos resulted until Aristide was reinstated in 1994, when a team from the US successfully negotiated the departure of Haiti’s military leaders. Aristide subsequently passed on the presidency to René Préval in February 1996, after he was forbidden to stand for a second consecutive term in 1995. The 2000 elections gave the presidency back to Aristide, although they were boycotted by the opposition and criticised by international observers. Widespread violence and human rights abuses ensued as Aristide supporters attacked the opposition, eventually leading to a second coup on 29th February 2004. Aristide was forced to leave the country and flown to the Central African Republic by the US. He attemped to return, but to no avail, and in February 2006, following elections marked by uncertainties and popular demonstrations, René Préval was again elected president.

A Natural Disaster and the Lack of Infrastructure to Cope

The latest disaster to occur in Haiti’s maligned trajectory took place on 12th January at 4:53pm local time, when the island was rocked by a force more destructive than any corrupt government. Haiti was struck by a magnitude-7.0 earthquake, the country’s most severe earthquake in over 200 years, with an epicentre just outside the capital of Port-au-Prince. Buildings crumbled and as the days wore on more and more bodies piled up. Observers testified to an air filled constant screams and the stench of death.

This was not the first natural disaster to have struck the island, however. Haiti’s geography is to blame for its unusual propensity for unfortunate events. The country straddles the major fault line between the North American and Caribbean tectonic plates, is positioned on the region’s principal hurricane track and has fallen victim to catastrophic flooding in 2002, 2003 (twice), 2006 and 2007.

Furthermore, the main tragedy which accompanies these events is as journalist Jon Heley summarises: “In Haiti, the last five centuries have combined to produce a people so poor, an infrastructure so nonexistent and a state so hopelessly ineffectual that whatever natural disaster chooses to strike next, its impact on the population will be magnified many, many times over.” While an earthquake is unpredictable and bound to cause problems anywhere, the problem lies in Haiti’s lack of resources, infrastructure and government control. This interplay of factors has repeated itself over the course of history, with the country’s current state the unfortunate result.

What made the earthquake’s effects all the more lethal was because it hit a densely populated capital city rather than a remote rural area, which in turn devastated the organisations and people who would normally lead a rescue effort. According to Stephanie Bunker, of the UN office for co-ordination of humanitarian affairs in New York: “It meant that the civil service, police, emergency services, all the organisations which would normally have key roles in responding to a major disaster were affected.”

Indeed, the recent earthquake brought Haiti to its knees. The Presidential Palace was badly damaged, along with the Haitan Parliament building, UN mission headquarters and National Cathedral. UN secretary general, Ban Ki-moon, declared the events to be the “most serious humanitarian crisis faced by the United Nations” in decades. International aid flowed in but was hampered by damaged infrastructure: the main port was destroyed beyond immediate use, the one local airport was of limited capacity and border crossings with neighbouring Dominincan Republic were distant and crowded.

Attention-Seeking International Aid

The situation was further aggravated by the way the international disaster relief initiatives were run. Respected medical journal, the Lancet, attacked the way charities and other non-governmental organisations played up to the media circus. In an editorial it declared: “NGOs are rightly mobilising, but also jostling for position, each claiming that they are doing the most for the earthquake survivors.” The Lancet argued that their behaviour underscored existing questions about the competitive nature of large aid agencies, and that a review of the way aid is delivered would be timely.

Meanwhile the agencies themselves warned that Haitians had died needlessly amid “utter chaos” in the organisation of relief efforts. According to Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) the confusion over who was running the relief effort – the US which controls the main airport, or the UN which says it is overseeing distribution – inhibited the importation of essential supplies. “The co-ordination…is not existing or not functioning at this stage,” Benoit Leduc, MSF’s operations manager in Port-au-Prince, is quoted as saying.

What next?

In the aftermath of the earthquake, Haiti will need to be completely rebuilt from the ground up. Journalist Eric Farnsworth opines that “even in good times, Haiti is an economic wreck, balancing precariously on the razor’s edge of calamity”. Haiti’s neighbours are equally at risk of natural disasters but the difference is that their societies are far better equipped to cope. They have not experienced the same traumatic, turbulent history that has resulted today in what is often described as a barely functioning society. Wealthy nations and their banks have bled Haiti dry, while its series of despotic and corrupt leaders have done nothing more than to push it down the slippery slope to self-destruction.

At midnight each year on 24th May crowds gather in front of the city’s historic cabildo on the eve of the anniversary of one of the most important events in Argentine history. The claiming of power in Buenos Aires by the local creole population (Spaniards born in the Americas) on 25th May 1810, in what became known as the ‘May Revolution’, set in motion a series of events that culminated in independence from Spain on 9th July 1816.

The ‘Colonial Pact’ 

During this time, the territory today known as Argentina was part of the Spanish Viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata, which contains present-day Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay and Uruguay, and was governed from the capital, Buenos Aires. It was ruled by a viceroy appointed by the Spanish crown and defended by the royalist army. For almost 300 years the absolute Catholic monarchy had presided over its colonies, represented by its appointed officials and audiencias, as the sole source of justice and power, the imparter of cultural identity and figure of unquestionable authority.

The social world that existed in the Americas was of a deeply traditional, patriarchal mould. Its orderly structure bound social classes together through reciprocal ties of patronage and tribute – the granting of favours to social inferiors (invariably the subjugated indigenous populations) in return for their loyalty and obedience. The monarchy set the seal on this patriarchal order of society, and above the king, stood only God. With religion providing the ultimate rationale for political authority, the Catholic monarchy and the hierarchal society it had cleverly created were, together, incredibly powerful forces for unity.

Early rebellion in Buenos Aires: the forging of a porteño identity

The beginnings of conflict with the Crown’s authority started in Buenos Aires when the Spanish declared its full monopoly on trade, prohibiting all commerce with English, French and Portuguese merchants, whose ships were now banned from even entering the city’s port. Despite this legislation the defiance of the king’s authority through illegal foreign trading or ‘contraband’, was widespread. 

However, though the creoles were often seething with resentment against Spain, their discontent did not boil over to serious rebellion. No matter what their frustrations, the creoles had no alternative source of legitimate authority and any attempt to carry grievances too far would essentially leave them in a dangerous constitutional void. Any direct attack on the monarchy carried the risk of bringing down the complex ideological structure of a patriarchal colonialism that, in the words of Edwin Williamson, ‘kept the Indies from collapsing in bloody chaos’. It was only when external forces destroyed the authority of the monarchy back in Europe that the creoles were forced into the void they had resisted for so long.

Further distance grew between the Río de la Plata viceroy and the Crown following the disastrous 1806/7 British invasions. With no support from the Spanish military, local militia groups took to the streets to defend their city from attack and were so successful that half of the British soldiers were killed or injured, forcing the enemy to withdraw. This resistance served to create a distinct Porte?o identity that would later come to prominence when unforeseen events back in Europe would destroy royal authority both in the Old and New Worlds and force the creoles deep into this long-resisted void.

Napoleon and the Crisis of Legitimacy

On 13th May 1810, the arrival of a British frigate in Montevideo confirmed the rumours circulating in Buenos Aires: Napoleon I of France had invaded Spain, capturing and overthrowing King Ferdinand VII, who was replaced by Napoleon’s older brother Joseph Bonaparte. 

In the absence of the desired king, juntas (committees) sprang up in various Spanish towns, assuming temporary sovereignty before eventually placing themselves under the authority of a Supreme Junta at Seville, later to take refuge from French troops in Cádiz.

The abrupt disappearance of the sovereign king now led to the question of where legitimate authority lay in the colonies: with Joseph Bonaparte, the Viceroy, or the Seville Junta? Did it perhaps lie with the creoles themselves, who might set up juntas following the Spanish example and assume provisional authority in the absence of Ferdinand? 

The Primera Junta in Buenos Aires

Such revolutionary implications meant that for the first time the creoles would legitimately be able to exercise power in America without deferring to a viceroy or being disloyal to the king. And so, on 25th May 1810, a junta proclaiming direct loyalty to Ferdinand VII seized power in Buenos Aires removing Viceroy Cisneros the same day.

Presided over by Cornelio Saavedra, the committee very quickly fell to the liberal sway of deputies such as Mariano Moreno. It soon opened the port for trade with all nations and proclaimed the equality of all citizens regardless of race. Instead of keeping the sovereignty of the king, the junta did the exact opposite. 

The radicalism of the new governing body did little to endear it to the more conservative, loyalist provinces, namely Paraguay, Banda Oriental (Uruguay) and Upper Perú (Bolivia), who opted to accept the authority of Cádiz. Over the next few years, the junta would send military expeditions from the capital to reduce these provinces by force of arms, and in turn, gain support for the revolutionary ideas of Buenos Aires.

In 1813 it called a national assembly and designated it as the United Provinces of Río de la Plata, even though independence from Spain had not yet been declared.

The Return of the King 

Meanwhile back in Europe, following the defeat of Napoleon in Spain, Ferdinand reverted to absolute rule in 1814. Whilst royalist and republican forces battled over the silver-rich lands of Upper Perú, the congress formed in 1813 met on 9th July 1816 in Tucumán and declared independence for a new state that was in time to be called Argentina.

Shortly afterwards, José de San Martín and Simón Bolívar would set off on their respective courses for the liberation of South America. Avoiding direct confrontations with royalist armies, they would seek the advantage of surprise by seizing vulnerable territory and setting up independent government offering the creoles an alternative political future to the Catholic monarchy. And so, San Martín put together an ‘Army of the Andes’ and advanced over the mountains towards Chile.

Broken dreams and the aftermath of independence

Although over the next decade the Americas would gain their independence from Spain, Bolívar would never realise his dream of a pan-American union. After difficulties faced in conflict over Perú, San Martín would take a self-imposed exile to Europe, followed soon after by Bolívar who, disillusioned by his experience famously declared: “America is ungovernable. Those who have served the revolution have ploughed the sea.”

Despite replacing the authority of the Catholic monarchy with that of the people, as happened in the French Revolution for example, in South America this change was not accompanied by any comparable revolution in society or the economy: the Americas retained its very traditional patriarchal and hierarchal society, still ruled by a privileged white elite. The liberal ideals of democracy with which the revolution was fought could only undermine state authority in societies such as these. In the Americas the ancién régime had not disappeared, rather the monarchical state that had allowed it to function had effectively broken down. As such, any republican constitution could never command the same loyalty or generally accepted political authority as an absolute monarch.

Though the creole elites had won the freedom they desired it was to come at the price of constant instability that would continue to frustrate their efforts to achieve prosperity and power comparable with advanced European countries. These problems would bring about moves towards ever-more authoritarian constitutions for the newly liberated territories, a fact that would haunt the new states throughout their histories and to the present day