Chapter III
the Anarchy of the Tropics—central
America—hayti—san Domingo
Tyrannies and revolutions—The action of climate and miscegenation—A republic of negroes: Hayti.
In Central America and the islands of the Antilles civil wars are the result not merely of racial conflict, but also of the enervating action of the Tropics. Precocious, sensual, impressionable, the Americans of these vast territories devote their energies to local politics. Industry, commerce, and agriculture are in a state of decay, and the unruly imagination of the Creole expends itself in constitutions, programmes, and lyrical discourse; in these regions anarchy is sovereign mistress.
Five republics came into being here, which have lived in a continual state of conflict, their aim being political domination. Internal disorders and international wars are continual. Ambitious generals have sometimes forced a provisional unity upon the continent, but it is soon divided by the anarchy and dictatorships which continually overwhelm the soil of the Tropics.
It is impossible to distinguish a military period and an industrial period in the history of Central America. Intellectuals and generals govern alternately, it is true, but thanks to identical methods; they all exercise the same sanguinary tutelage. A few dictators whose rule has been slightly more prolonged have at times contrived to increase the number of schools or develop the national finances, but personal initiative and the importation of foreign capital are equally out of the question under the rule of autocracies which govern solely by grace of the military element. Liberty, wealth, and human rights are the appanage of inhuman dictators.
The Republic was proclaimed and the political Constitution adopted in Central America on the 10th of April, 1825. It was then that the autonomous life of the five united provinces commenced. General Manuel Joseph was the first President of Central America. The Federal Statute of 1824 attributed all powers to Congress: it initiated a parliamentary dictatorship. As against the popular assembly the Executive was powerless, and the Senate, to which the Constitution confided the final sanction of the laws promulgated by Congress, was weak in point of numbers. As in all republics, the government was popular, representative, and federal. The equality of all citizens and the abolition of slavery being decreed, it was a new era that opened, liberal and romantic.
In the Lower Chamber Guatemala had the majority, and from this superiority ensued a tendency to political domination which provoked a long series of internal wars. Here was no conflict of nations, but of the interests of rival provinces or the quarrels of individual generals. Salvador wished to realise its autonomy; a virile and well-peopled republic, she could not readily accept the hegemony of Guatemala. Here is one aspect of this monotonous history: the frequent wars which divided Guatemala and Salvador. They struggled for supremacy, for moral tutelage. The federal tie survived, and the Assemblies multiplied; there were General Assemblies and Provisional Assemblies. Suddenly one of the States declared void the pact which united it to the other republics: Congress was dissolved, and at once re-elected. There was a perpetual confusion of powers.
During the first twenty years of liberty the anarchical instinct which sought to separate the republics and the calm reason which sought to unite them under the pressure of powerful traditions were in mutual conflict. It was the conflict of nationalism and unity. As in Chili the Carreras opposed the authority of San Martin, as in Venezuela Paez rebelled against the unification of Bolivar, so Carrera the Guatemalan general warred against Morazan, the caudillo of the Unitarian party, during twelve years of a struggle of province with province.
However, the States separated one from another, and united anew under the domination of a theoretical federation; men still legislated in Congresses, and built the future nation with the ardour of Jacobins: eleven Assemblies of the Confederation prepared codes and statutes. One essential trait of the new laws was their secular spirit, and their tendency to aggressive action against the clergy. Even sooner than Mexico these assemblies promulgated the laws of the Reformation; even before the era of religious quarrels opened in Colombia the radical fervour which was contemporary with the liberalism of Rivadavia was at work in Central America. For that matter, it appeared to be a remnant of the old "regalism." In 1829 the Assembly suppressed all convents of monks; in 1830 Honduras declared that secular priests might marry; in Guatemala it was enacted that the sons of members of the clergy ordained in sacris were necessarily their heirs. In 1832 toleration was proclaimed, but, on the other hand, the States were continually fighting over the question of patronage, and the antagonism between the State, which wished to impose its tutelage, and the rebellious Church was perpetual.
Two influences dominated the minds of the new law-makers: English utilitarianism and Yankee federalism. Here French ideas were not predominant. But the tropical republics could not assimilate the severe English doctrine. In vain, in 1832, did Congress go into mourning on the occasion of the death of Bentham; in vain was absolute liberty of testimony proclaimed in Guatemala. The double and inevitable influence of tradition and race cannot be destroyed by means of improvised laws.
Central America borrowed from the United States their mode of suffrage, the federal system, the organisation of the jury, and the codes of Louisiana. But popular agitation condemned the institution of the jury; the codes borrowed from the United States did not annihilate barbarism, and the federal system was powerless to enforce unity.
In 1842 this troublous Confederation of sister nations was dissolved. Once these nations were definitely separated, what we may call the period of provincial history commenced; it was confused, yet identical in the case of the various States. Above the anarchical multitude rose energetic caudillos; necessary tyrants, who endeavoured to enforce order in the interior, and to organise the national finances.
The history of Costa Rica forms the only exception among these republics oscillating between tyranny and demagogy. In this country were no clearly divided social castes, no great capitalists, and no crowds of proletariats. A small homogeneous State, in which men were always known as hermanicos ("brotherlies") because their interests and their ideas were identical, Costa Rica seemed to justify the classic idea which associated the success of the republican system with limited territories and small human groups. Work, unity, and lasting peace have been the characteristics of social evolution in Costa Rica. While neighbouring States were at war this tiny republic was progressing peacefully.
Salvador also developed normally without the discords of Nicaragua or Guatemala. Race explains the differences to be observed in these great theatres of political experience; in Salvador and Costa Rica the Spanish element was predominant, the castes were confounded, the population was dense, and the birth-rate high. In Honduras mulattos abounded, and in Nicaragua and Guatemala the races were mixed, and the Indians were superior in point of numbers. Among these five tropical republics those which progressed were those in which the race was homogeneous, or in which the Iberian conquerors outnumbered the Indians, negroes, and mulattos.
The very tropical anarchy which has turned Central America into a perpetual theatre of civil wars has also continually divided the two zones of the ancient Hispaniola: San Domingo and Hayti. In the one the Spaniards ruled, in the other the French, and the antagonism of these two Powers was of long duration. Hayti is a negro State, and San Domingo refused to submit to the tyranny of ex-slaves. Conflicts of a political origin were supplemented by the warfare of castes. Caudillos and tyrants have succeeded one another in the government; revolutions and domestic wars have continually troubled these two small States, over which the United States have gradually extended their tutelage.
As early as the seventeenth century the French were established in Hispaniola, on the northern coast; bold Normans, herdsmen and shepherds, the celebrated buccaneers, had founded a kind of forest republic ruled by special laws. In 1691 this territory was a French colony, and in 1726 it contained 30,000 free inhabitants and 100,000 slaves, black or mulatto. The Creoles, according to the chroniclers of the time, were proud and inconstant, idle and sceptical as to religion. The negroes, chiefly occupied in servile labour, superstitious and imprudent, formed the bulk of the slaves. A Jesuit, Father Charlevoix, who had observed them, wrote in 1725: "Properly speaking we may say that the negroes between Cap Blanc and Cap Noir have been born only for slavery."[1] It was said that the negroes were wont to celebrate the rites of a secret worship in the forest, and were preparing to fight for their liberty. They hated the other castes, the whites, the free negroes, and the mulattos; and the Hayti of the future was born of this racial hatred. Ex-slaves governed the isle, and found in bloody hecatombs revenge for their long servitude. These formed the oligarchy, an intolerable and intolerant aristocracy, inimical to whites and mulattos. Like the revolts of slaves in the ancient world, these rebellions of American serfs were the occasion of wars of extermination. The French Revolution provoked them by its Utopian liberalism: Mirabeau and Lafayette were friends of the negro, and the Convention decreed the abolition of slavery in the colonies in 1794. The slaves had risen already, in 1791, at the first rumours of the risings in France, burning property and killing their rulers.
They therefore attained political and civil liberty suddenly, with no prudent transitions. A caudillo, Toussaint Louverture, was the hero of the war of liberation. The metropolis made this ex-coachman a general. Sober and active, crafty and patriotic, he aspired to seize the reins of government; he expelled the English and fought against the people of colour who were led by General Rigaud; he was the indomitable defender of his race. The slaves regarded him as a tutelary deity; they thought him inspired; he gradually became the fetish of a superstitious caste. In 1801 an Assembly elected him governor for life; but he did not renounce the protection of France. In vain did his adulators call him the Napoleon of the negroes; he did not aspire to absolute rule. He organised an army and set the finances in order; he proved a vigilant administrator. Like the dictator Francia in Paraguay, he forced his people to work by strict regulations; he prosecuted vagabonds, won the esteem of the whites, and introduced a severe morality into matters of finance.
Napoleon wished to reconquer the emancipated colony, and sent a strong army against it. The negroes rallied round their chief, and offered a heroic resistance; finally the French withdrew, and abandoned the island to the ex-slaves. In 1825 the metropolis recognised the independence of Hayti.
The Constitution of the new republic was promulgated in 1801. Without disdaining the suzerainty of France, which had prematurely abolished slavery, the negroes made laws intended to establish a democracy; they organised municipalities, and recognised Catholicism as the State religion. They recognised that labour, painful as it is to an indolent nation, is yet obligatory. From this time forward the history of Hayti is a perpetual succession of civil wars and dictatorships. Liberal laws were given to a caste habituated to slavery. Pétion, who was honoured by the friendship of Bolivar, was President in 1807; he applied himself more especially to the education of his people, and was called the father of his country; his government was a period of peace between two crises of vandalism. Before him the successor of Toussaint Louverture, Dessalines, had ordered the killing of all the whites, and had commenced a disastrous racial war. Nothing could be more hateful to the ex-slaves than the aristocracy of the skin; neither whites nor mulattos escaped the fury of the rulers. The integrity of the negro race was the ideal of these ferocious dictators.
No South American republic had to suffer such ill-augured tyrannies as those of Hayti; no autocracy was so formidable as that of these ex-slaves, whose leaders were notable amateurs of pageantry and bloodshed. Soulouque, the sworn enemy of the mulattos, proclaimed himself Emperor in 1849, taking the name of Faustinus I., and surrounding himself with a grotesquely ambitious court: he was the most execrable of despots. The Republic was re-established in 1859, and the monotonous sequence of servile coxcombs who made use of their power to gratify their passion for extermination recommenced: civil wars, international wars, assassinations, and massacres filled the bloodstained chronicles of the isle. The Haytian rulers exercised a harsh domination over San Domingo, where mulattos abounded and the Spanish tradition was not extinct; the negro invasion exiled the Dominican writers, destroyed the culture of the university, and swept like a wave of barbarism into the brilliant colony.
The Dominicans abhorred their long servitude, and, despite the terrible reprisals of their rulers, they prepared in silence for liberation. In 1821 Nuñez de Caceres declared San Domingo to be separated from Spain, and demanded protection of Colombia; the President of Hayti, Boyer, could not permit this unexpected autonomy, and sent an army to occupy the capital of the new republic. After a long period of secret preparation another group of patriots again proclaimed the independence of San Domingo, and in 1844 a movement which coincided with the revolt of the Haytian liberals against the tyranny of Boyer. This campaign, known as "the Revolt," was directed by an impassioned ideologist, Juan-Pablo Duarte, who was surrounded by intellectuals and men of action. The traditional oppressors were vanquished, and the victors proclaimed that "the peoples of the ancient Spanish portion, in vindication of their rights and desiring to provide for their own welfare and future happiness in a just and legal manner, have formed themselves into a free, independent, and sovereign State."
In winning her autonomy San Domingo did not realise the dream of the strict republicans. Her history is less troubled than that of Hayti, and education and literature have attained an astonishing development in the old Spanish colony, but political life has been indecisive and full of revolutionary upheavals, as in the other democracies of South America. Perhaps we must attribute to the great number of mulattos, always incapable of self-government, or to the long duration of the Haytian domination, the anarchy of this, one of the youngest of the overseas republics. After 1844, the year of liberation, Santana, a half-breed dictator, cunning, uncultured, and implacable in hatred, retained the supreme power. The Februarists were at the head of the revolution known as the Reformation—Duarte, Mella, Sanchez—noble idealists in love with the idea of democracy. However, a caudillo profited by this movement of regeneration, overruling the ideologists in the name of practical despotism. "Februarism," said a remarkable Dominican thinker, "that is to say, the constitution of a free government founded upon equity, without caciquism and without the shameful fetters which sometimes limit the exercise of sovereignty, has predominated for too short a time on two or three occasions of our national life. On the contrary, Santanism—that is, personal autocracy, rigid and stifling, such as characterised the entire policy of Santana, and which has been practised since his time by nearly all our rulers, attenuated in some cases and in others exasperated—Santanism seems to have deep and inextricable roots."[2]
But is it not the fact that despotism is the necessary form of all government in these republics, where the division of castes opposes unity and the normal development of nationality? The future of Haytians and Dominicans both is full of grave problems: among the first we find poetry, imagination, a high state of culture, but political evolution is very slow. The peoples of the Tropics seem incapable of order, laborious patience, and method; so that the prodigal literature of San Domingo forms a striking contrast to the archaic quality of its political life. "Its geographical situation," says Señor Garcia Godoy, "places it almost at the mercy of North American imperialism." Hayti is still a barbarous democracy. It is not easy to turn a colony of negro slaves into an orderly and prosperous republic merely by virtue of political charters of foreign origin; and it has not been proved that parliamentarism, municipal life, and the classic division of powers, the creation of the East, form an adequate system of government for negroes and mulattos. In vain did General Légitime, once President of Hayti, affirm that had they been properly encouraged and directed, his people would already have arrived at "the highest degree of prosperity and civilisation"; in vain did he pretend that the decadence of his country was due not to a question of race but to a problem of social economy: excess of taxation and paper money. Hayti possesses immense natural wealth, yet the taxes are crushing, the railways go bankrupt, labourers emigrate, and agriculture and industry are dwindling, as the General recognised; all because the indolence of the race does not permit it to take advantage of the fertility of the soil nor to govern itself.
[1] Histoire de l'Isle cspagnole, Amsterdam, 1733, vol. iv. p. 362.
[2] Rufinito, by F. Garcia Godoy, Santo Domingo, 1908, pp. 53, 54.