Latin America: Its Rise and Progress

by Francisco García Calderón

We must define the different aspects of their activities in South America; a summary examination of their influence could not fail to be unjust. They have conquered new territories, but they have upheld the independence of feeble States; they aspire to the hegemony of the Latin continent, but this ambition has prevented numerous and grievous conflicts between South American nations. The moral pressure of the United States makes itself felt everywhere; the imperialist and maternal Republic intervenes in all the internal conflicts of the Spanish-speaking democracies. It excites or suppresses revolutions; it fulfils a high vocation of culture. It uses or abuses a privilege which cannot be gainsaid. The better to protect the Ibero-Americans, it has proudly raised its Pillars of Hercules against the ambition of the Old World.

Sometimes this influence becomes a monopoly, and the United States take possession of the markets of the South. They aim at making a trust of the South American republics, the supreme dream of their multi-millionaire conquistadors. Alberdi has said that there they are the "Puerto Cabello" of the new America; that is to say, that they aim, after the Spanish fashion, at isolating the southern continent and becoming its exclusive purveyors of ideas and industries.

Their supremacy was excellent when it was a matter of basing the independence of twenty republics of uncertain future upon a solid foundation. The neo-Saxons did not then intervene in the wars of the South; they remained neutral and observed the peace which Washington had advocated. They proclaimed the autonomy of the continent, and contributed to conserve the originality of Southern America by forbidding the formation of colonies in its empty territories, and by defending the republican and democratic States against reactionary Europe.

But who will deliver the Ibero-Americans from the excess of this influence? Quis custodiet custodem? An irresponsible supremacy is perilous.

Naturally, in the relations of the United States and the nations of the South actions do not always correspond with words; the art of oratory is lavish with a fraternal idealism, but strong wills enforce their imperialistic ambitions. Although fully attentive to the fair-sounding promises of the North, the statesmen of the South refuse to believe in the friendship of the Yankees; being perturbed by the memory of ancient and recent conquests, these peoples perhaps exaggerate the danger which might come from the North. A blind confidence and an excessive timidity are equally futile.

In 1906, at the conference of Rio de Janeiro, Secretary Root, in the presence of assembled America, was the lay prophet of the new gospel.

"We do not wish," he said, "to win victories, we desire no territory but our own, nor a sovereignty more extensive than that which we desire to retain over ourselves. We consider that the independence and the equal rights of the smallest and weakest members of the family of nations deserve as much respect as those of the great empires. We pretend to no right, privilege, or power that we do not freely concede to each one of the American Republics." This was the solemn declaration of a Puritan politician; Mr. Root continues the noble tradition of Washington, Jefferson, and Hamilton.

Ten years earlier another secretary, Mr. Olney, declared to Lord Salisbury that the great Anglo-Saxon Republic was practically sovereign—paramount was his word—on the American continent, and that its fiat was law in affairs which called for its intervention. Which is the truth: the imperialistic declarations of Mr. Olney or the idealism of Mr. Root?

Against the policy of respect for Latin liberties are ranged the instincts of a triumphant plutocracy. The centre of North American life is passing from Boston to Chicago; the citadel of the ideal gives way to the material progress of the great porcine metropolis. There is a conflict of dissimilar currents of morality. The Puritan tradition of New England seems useless in the struggle of the Far West; the conquest of the desert demands another morality; the morality of conflict, aggression, and success. The trusts raise their heads above the impotent clamour of the weak. The conflict between the new-comers is tumultuous and brutal; as in the time of imperial Rome, the latter-day republicans are becoming aware of their defeat by a new caste, animated by an impetuous love of conflict. It is the struggle between idealism and plutocracy, between the tradition of the Pilgrim Fathers and the morality of Wall Street; the patricians of the Senate and the bosses of Tammany Hall.

The great historical parties are divided; while the democrats do not forget the ideal of Washington and Lincoln, the republicans think only of imperialism.