Sunday, October 24, 2010

Myth-busters: Charles Mann’s 1491 and Matthew Restall’s Seven Myths of the Spanish Conquest

The European discovery of the New World is without a doubt one of the most influential occurrences in mankind’s history. The consequences of the Trans-Atlantic exchange so powerfully shook the world that the event is still presenting change after five centuries. As with any historical episode, myths, historical error, and the influence of time surround the affair giving rise to common misconceptions. Two books, Charles Mann’s 1491 and Matthew Restall’s Seven Myths of the Spanish Conquest are both concerned with the legends of the Americas discovery and are dedicated to dispelling these myths; however, both differ in premise. At times these works reinforce each other but often are contradictory. Mann’s account is based not only on historical data but also scientific evidence. Mann seeks to prove that the societies of the New World were just as advanced as those of the Old World; Restall, on the other hand, wrestles with the myths of Spanish conquest and the issues that arise in the historiography of these conquests.
Restall is deeply concerned with the subjective nature of the historical narrative and early in his work the author challenges the reader with his thoughts on historical conclusions by asking, “Are our truths really convenient fictions?” Culture, language time, and agenda are all cause for misinterpretation according to Restall. The cruxes of Restalls work are his presentations of primary sources and distortions by secondary sources as well as the nature of some first hand accounts. Both 1491 and Seven Myths reinforce each other by presenting first-hand accounts of conquest encounters but both portray them differently. Mann, while seeking an accurate revision of history, and while applying his new “master narrative” to the conquest, reinforces much of what Restall is attempting to quiet, if not disprove outright. At times, these works assist in a deeper understanding of the subject, but at others, their goals are fundamentally different.
The first of the Seven Myths tackled by Restall is the hagiography of the explorers and conquistadors of the conquest; he focuses primarily on Cortés as an example. Mann discuses the principal conquest of Cortés, the Mexica Empire, as a result not of Spanish military superiority, but instead resulting from the impact of epidemic and Cortés alliance with Moctezuma’s rivals. This is in contrast to the familiar legend of the annihilation of the Mexica by several hundred men. Restall embraces these contributors to Cortés success but is apprehensive to accept these factors as basis for the elevation of Cortés to iconic status. Instead, Restall offers insight into how culture has created the conceptions. Self –promotion, notably through probanzas to patrons, the importance of central Mexico to Spain, divine justification and later, as in the case of historian William Prescott, nineteenth-century notions of imperial ideology that all add up to Cortés the “great man” (Restall, 14-8). Mann seems to project that the “truths” of the conquest result from the victors accounts of the conquest while Restall adds that, when the historiography of the conquest is examined historical anachronisms give “primacy of cause and explanation to a handful of exceptional men” (Restall, 26).
Having established the ordinary nature of conquistadors like Cortés, simply following pre-established routines of conquest (European and Indian), Restall continues to his second and third myths (Restall, 26). “The Myth of the Kings Soldiers” is refuted by Restall with the account of paje and criado Gaspar de Marquina, which is exemplary of the entrepreneurial nature of the conquest. Overall, patronage, opportunity, and competition with other Spaniards drove entrepreneurs to the New World, not soldiers (Restall, 42). “The Myth of the White Conqustador” follows with an array of characters including black conquistadors, such as Juan Garrido and Juan Valliente, as well as native groups, such as the Tlaxcalan faction within the Mexica Empire, as key players in the conquest. Mann does address native faction as critical in both the Aztec and Inka narratives (and most others in keeping with his overarching theme of disease and faction). However, Mann in his tragic tone fails to mention such groups as the Huejotzincans that are not decimated by Europeans domination. Instead the Huejotzincan assist Cortés loyally in further conquest not only that of their rivals, the Triple Alliance (Restall, 49). Mann and Restall would agree that the Spanish were “by no means the sole conquistadors” (Restall, 63). However, racial attitudes have for centuries acted as a pedestal on which to place these myths.
The fourth of the Seven Myths in among the most central to Restall’s thesis, “The Myth of Completion.” This is also, coincidentally, where Mann and Restalls myth-busting become strikingly different. Mann implies that Mesoamerica was a world that all but disappeared after Columbus, “swept away by disease and subjugation” (Mann, 27). Restall embarks upon this myth by specifying seven dimensions of the incompleteness of Spanish conquest. Misconceptions of both total and rapid conquest are countered by the independent Inca state that existed after the siege of Cuzco, an event that is formulaic of Spanish control and not an exception to any rule. Further dispelling the completeness of conquest, Restall points out that rebellion in the empire was common, as in the case of the Araucanians of Chile that resisted Spanish authority into the nineteenth century or Yaqi Myans of the Yucatan until the twentieth century, both being overshadowed by the idea of pax colonial, when in fact Spanish clout in the Americas was routinely challenged (Restall, 72-3). Many native groups lived in relative autonomy inside the Spanish colonial system and also maintained, even if not completely, much of their religion and culture. These misconceptions, Restall illustrates are the result of myths propagated by writings of Franciscans determined to convert the New World, the emergence of imperial ideology, as well as a brutal Spanish reputation, in reference to centuries of reconquista at home in Europe (Restall, 72-6). In contrast, Mann focuses more on the impact of disease and subjugation as opposed to the maintenance of native identity in the face of these forces.
Mann would support, however, that many of these societies were adamant for the perseverance of their culture. Mann emphasizes the intellectual traditions of natives particularly that of the Mexica. These accomplishments were cut short, according to Mann, not having the chance to develop as far as that of the Greeks or Chinese (Mann, 123). The Nahutal accounts of the diplomatic exchange and debate between Mexica priest and Spaniards shows the development of these traditions through centuries of societal rise and collapse by the Teotihuacán and Toltec. It is clear in this account that miscommunication and assumptions by both Spanish and Mexica led to a misunderstanding of each other. What Restall presents about “The Myth of (Mis)Communication” is that the Spanish had no greater understanding of “interhuman communication” than natives. Despite acquiring translators, such as Cortés famed Malinche, and a tradition of advanced literacy, the Conquistadors access to information does not lend credibility to notions of Spanish superiority. Both were foreigners to the other and Spanish-native interaction gave no upper hand to either party. Instead it created a “Double Mistaken Identity” between the two (Restall, 99).
Restalls sixth myth, “The Myth of Native Desolation,” stands in stark contrast to Mann’s work which exerts much effort to emphasize the impact of disease on native populations. Mann’s discourse on the blood types of Indians as well as evidence gathered from as far away from Mesoamerica as Siberia is all part of his claim that American civilizations and their populations were far larger than history has given credit and furthermore halted in development by conquest. While “correcting” this myth, Mann interprets the valuable and productive exchange of cultures that may have occurred in the trans-Atlantic experience as “vanishing [sic] when small-pox came” (Mann, 124). Restall would argue that the evaporation of native culture never occurred, as already made evident in his “Myth of Completeness.” Seventeenth century racial and imperial ideologies illustrate how Europeans “invented America” (Restall, 105). Restall offers art, such as Jan van der Straet’s depiction of naked, innocent, and cannibalistic Indians, as well to demonstrate the racial attitudes that lead Europeans to believe that natives were sub-human and believed that the Europeans were gods. The roots of this legend are found in error of interpretations of native language, Christian justification for campaigns, and the self-confidence of the conquistadors (Restall, 111-5). The vitality of native culture is given plenty of credibility by Restall and in fact “evolved more rapidly and radically in the colonial period” as a reaction to the acceleration of “technologies and demands” (Restall, 129).
The culmination of the Seven Myths is the overarching theme of Spanish superiority. Mann and Restall are both aware that weaponry and horses did play important roles in the conquest but can not be counted as an advantage for Europeans. “God given victories,” in the accounts of countless Spanish such as Gaspar Marquina apply notions of divine intervention to the “Myth of Superiority.” Restall offers anti-mythic examples in this chapter to help better understand the conquest in the face of what Juan de Sepúlveda and others feels is the right to govern “barbarians” (Restall, 131). Disease, native disunity, and weaponry (with emphasis on the sword) are the common anti-mythic ideas held by Mann and others such as Jared Diamond (author of bestselling Guns, Germs, and Steel). Restall also includes the differences in the cultures of war between Spanish and natives which are of importance to comprehending the military success of the conquest. Finally, Restall explains that the superiority complex must be understood in the larger context of the “Age of Expansion.” When examining thousands of years of history, the conquest must be understood as an uneven and unintended exchange that is still incomplete. What seems “uneven” to Indians in regards to the limited resources provided to natives by colonialism and the prevalence of disease in these exchanges in only a brief glimpse into the “gradual globalization of resources” that is still occurring (Restall 145).
Now in closing, what can be taken away from 1491 and Seven Myths? Mann has made his case that pre-European America was cut short in its development in 1492 by unraveling thousands of years of political and social progress. While Mann does not assign blame or specifically or seek to vilify Europeans for their conquest, the elements of his argument reinforce the notion of total conquest. The evidence presented by Mann does challenge notions of stagnant civilization in Mesoamerica prior to 1492 but it is this total conquest that Restall is attempting to falsify. Restall changes how the conquest should be examined in the larger context of world events. To Restall there is no evidence for the annihilation of native culture and in fact, native culture is still a critical piece of Latin American identity. Restall’s epilogue serves as a reminder that history is not perfect and prone to be influenced by our own beliefs. To Restall, objectivity is a goal that can never fully be attained. Restall challenges our study of the events surrounding 1492 as an episode, a piece of something larger that will never fully be finalized. Restall frees us from the historiography of the conquest by appreciating them in this more accurate context. No longer must we be hindered by belief in the uneven exchanges of 1492 nor be held back from objectivity by common presumptuous ideas such as, “God, Gold, and Glory.” The word conquest can only be described as inaccurate in the case of Latin America.

American and Mexican Culture: the Inevitability of the Texas Revolution

Many scholars have debated the nature of the Texas Revolution and the events that led to the rebellion. Whether or not the conflict was inevitable is at the core of these debates. There are many dimensions of the revolution that must be examined in order to achieve an understanding of the political and social upheavals of the mid 1830s. Although many of these details reveal a Texas population that was loyal to Mexican federalism, even the radical war hawking minority or the so-called land hungry Texans could not have single handedly brought on the rebellion. Instead, it is Anglos attitudes in regards to federalism, racial tensions, and the rhetoric of “liberty” and “tyranny” left lingering in the personas of Anglo Texans that result in the revolutions inevitability.
Since the beginning of the 19th century Anglo filibusterism was prevalent throughout Texas and the Spanish West. The Gutierrez-McGee expedition of 1812, one notable example, resulted in the bloody battle of Medina and a drafted Declaration of Independence in Nachadoches. While attempts to establish independent Anglo settlements in Texas were thwarted by both Spanish and later Mexican governments, the Louisiana Purchase of 1803 and the Adams-Onis treaty, 1819-21, surrounded the state of Coahuila y Tejas with Anglo claims. The Coahuila y Tejas Immigration Law of 1824 allowed foreigners into the region but recognized and encouraged Spanish as the official language and catholic preference. The Mexican government did feel threatened by Anglo influence and the liberal immigration policy was intended to create a multinational region.
The cultures of Mexicans and Anglos were starkly different. The new federalist government of Mexico drafted a constitution surprisingly similar to their neighbor’s to the Northeast. Most American immigrants to Texas were willing to accept ideals of Mexican federalism that was not much different from that of the United States. Nevertheless, the economic Panic of 1819 had driven many Americans West as well as into Texas. With this expansion came American values that would later be critical influences to the revolution. Along with unique American ideas in regards to property, notably slavery, Anglos brought the American style of individuality and most importantly economic self interest and notions of economic betterment that deluded many Americans in the Jacksonian era. Overall, Anglos saw Mexicans as barbaric and backwards people and often even popish conspirators (De Leon, 100).
Thus, although grievances would later be voiced against Mexico by Anglo-Texians, it is the clash of cultures and loss of Mexican influence that created an air of inevitability for conflict. In 1829 the legislature of Coahuila y Tejas officially prohibited slavery in the region — a decision that did not set well with conceptions of property held by Anglos in Texas. To these settlers slavery was a critical economic resource as well as a nearly divine right to property in the minds of the Anglo immigrants in the region (who were mostly southerners). Tensions would be exacerbated further in 1830 with the passing of the April 6 law. This decree by the Mexican government is analogous to the Stamp Act of the American Revolution. This act encouraged Mexican immigration to Texas, created new tariffs, and forbid immigration by Americans. The abolition of slavery as well as the 1830 restrictions on immigration began to galvanize Anglos against this Mexican so-called “oppression.”
The April 6, 1830 law, the Mexican effort to exert its influence in Texas, in actuality only polarized the Anglo settlers against Mexican government. The restriction of immigration brought increased economic suffering to Texas by limiting capitalistic enterprise and paralyzing immigration (Haynes, 95: Document 8). With the American Revolution in the recent past for Americans, new voices began to rise in Texas proselytizing with rhetoric of tyranny and liberty. Among these voices were William H. Wharton and William Barrett Travis. These individuals were the John Adams and Patrick Henry, so to speak, of the Texas Revolution and both were involved in incidents that escalated tensions with the Mexican government. These radicals had been proponents of Texas independence for some time but were not taken particularly serious by most of the population.
The short lived Freedonian Republic of 1826-27 is indicative of both the Anglo drive for independence and the support of Anglos to the Mexican government. On one hand, Stephen F. Austin volunteered his militia to assist Mexico in quelling the rebellion. However, the leaders of the revolt sought to correct “lawless and repeated outrages” against the “sons of America” (Haynes, 90: Document 5). The radical acts of individuals would again stir controversy in 1832 with the Anahuac incident. Both Wharton and Travis were involved in a confrontation with the Mexican military instigated by the unwarranted arrest of Travis. Shots were fired and, although few in number, casualties taken on both sides. What is more important than the conflict, however, are the Turtle Bayou Resolutions adopted in the wake of the incident. The Turtle Bayou Resolutions voiced grievances with the laws of 1830 as well as those that directly led to the Anahuac disturbance. However, the resolution maintained submission to Mexican authority. Further resolutions by the conventions of 1832-33 resulted in the repeal of the 1830 laws, granted state-hood as well as military protection, established habeas corpus, and reduced tariffs. Resolutions of this kind were common in the Anglo political tradition but were a backhanded gesture in the eyes of the Mexican government. Thus, these political differences along race lines hindered positive relationships between Mexico and its settlers and further advanced the inevitability of conflict by the end of 1832. Despite these hindrances, in early 1834 Mexico repealed the April 6, 1830 law.
The loss of Mexican influence, intensified by political customs, and property issues (both land and slaves) are all important precursors to the revolutions. However, it is not until attempts at re-strengthening the central government by General, and by 1835 military dictator, Antonio López de Santa Anna that a political eruption occurs throughout the federation. Santa Anna’s Plan of Cuernavaca suspended the constitution of 1824, a constitution that federalist leaning Anglos happily supported as loyal Mexican citizens, and sparked various rebellions in several regions of Mexico. Thus, Texas is only one example of many rebellions. Nevertheless, the political environment of 1834 gave the radical positions of Travis and Wharton validity in the hearts of constitutionally minded Anglos and revolutionary support grew. This reigning in of the federation to a more centralized government was a threat to American liberty that Anglo-Mexicans felt they deserved.
Much like the British garrison in New York harbor in the early 1770s, the standing Mexican army in San Antonio became a tyrannical threat to liberty. As tensions increased and with militia forming across Texas, Mexico sent in forces. In Gonzalez the Mexican army sought to seize cannon from could be rebels. While this could have occurred without incident, the arrival of Wharton the evening prior stirred up a rebellious frenzy in a speech reminiscent of the American Revolution. When Mexicans and Anglos exchanged fire at Gonzalez battle lines were drawn and these divisions were formed along racial lines. The “haunting prospect” of rule by Anglos brought years of racial tensions to a head and this so-called tyranny, whether a delusion of the Anglos or a reality, ceased the efforts of both races to exist in a multicultural Texas (Deleon, 104).
The small but significant Battle of Gonzalez is the official beginning of the Texas Revolution and has earned the title “Lexington” of the Texas Revolution. The outcome of the Revolution is well known and in typical historical fashion is distorted by myth-making and legend. While many factors led to the revolution, the altogether dissimilar mentality of Anglos and Mexicans was both the origin and culmination of the drive towards Texas Independence. In the spirit of the era, Americans, that according to Tocqueville “carried constitutions in their pockets,” could not permanently co-exist in a Mexican society. Notions of Anglo-superiority, as well as the legacy of American individualism, were too strong to truly submit to the will of Mexico.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

The Enhancement of History through Film: How Gangs of New York, The Alamo, and Dances with Wolves Enrich the Historical Perspective


Historical films have recently become the topic for much discourse and debate among historians in all topics and fields. Naturally, there are many aspects of the historical film that must be considered when analyzing their ability to recreate the past on the screen. On the surface it would seem that many factors would prevent accurate depictions of the past. However, historians such as Robert B. Toplin and Robert Rosenstone have pointed out that the fallibility, imprecision, or bias of film is not unlike the professional field of historical study. In order to resonate with modern audiences, film of this genre typically must attract viewers by employing narratives that include larger than life characters, conflicts clearly defined by cultural moral absolutes, and broad themes wrapped in sentiment to remain relevant to the viewer.

These historical pictures are staples of the Hollywood industry often winning critical acclaim. While there are films that break the conventional rules of Hollywood, few are successful and the risk involved in making a historic piece is staggering (Toplin, 114). So it must be understood that the primary objective of any film is its profitability. The bottom-line of production companies underscores the objectivity that is required for any story to contain Rosenstone calls “literal” truth (Rosenstone, 76). Instead of criticizing the nonobjective nature of historic film, both Toplin and Rosenstone praise the historic film for mustering attention for historical topics. For the purposes of this essay, focus will not be placed on historical anachronisms of film. Instead attention will be given to how historical films can minimize hagiography and presentism as well as make example of these tendencies in an effort to show how the dramatic quality of film can capture audiences but never achieve historical perfection in several films: Dances with Wolves, Gangs of New York, and the most recent version of The Alamo.

Hagiography, the elevation of past characters to mythic status, is not unique to film. Rosenstone notes that written history is not “itself something solid and unproblematic” (Rosenstone, 49). Myth and legend are intricate parts of pre-literate ideology but even in the 20th century figures are iconized as larger than life (Hitler or Gandhi, just for example). The earliest historical biopic films of the 1920s and 1930s sought to characterize individuals as heroic while America was searching for a leader. The best example, from the above mentioned films, of a “mover and shaker” is the portrayal of Davy Crockett in John Lee Hancock’s The Alamo (2004). The tall tales of the Tennessean belongs in the ranks of Paul Bunyan or Johnny Appleseed but this film depicts a Davy Crockett that is struggling to live up to his own reputation. The wild frontiersman of the theatre is shown attempting to shoot Santa Anna from some distance. Mexican officials, aware of the presence in the mission of the folk-hero, warn their general but to the tejano’s surprise Crockett’s aim is shaky. The great man of history method commonly applies to of the heroes of the Texas Revolution, or any other revolution for that matter, but credit must be given to the directors for showing the vulnerability and the unspectacular humanity of these men when Crockett admits “If it was just me, simple old David from Tennessee, I might drop over that wall... But that Davy Crockett feller, they're all watchin' him.” This is a far cry from the progressive era depiction of the Alamo filled with bias, historical error, and racism.

The acclaimed Dances with Wolves (1990) is easily the most romantic of these films. With its picturesque and rugged setting and backed by an exquisite musical score, Kevin Costner’s star/directed blockbuster uses fiction to reconstruct a glimpse into controversial period in American history. While the three hour epic never mentions topics such as manifest destiny or the infamous trail of tears, a portrait of Anglo western expansion and injustice towards natives is proudly presented. Of course, these concepts are crystal clear to Lieutenant John Dunbar (Costner) who has gone native, so to speak, and whose character is one of the only redeeming qualities of the white race in the film. This presentism, or applying present notions of morals to the past, is no doubt skewed to cast a villainous shadow on the Soldiers of the film while shining a bright beacon of innocence on the Lakota.

In the case of Dances with Wolves two key observations can be made about the narrative. The first is positive, the experience of natives in the historiography of the American frontier has until recently been very negative. Dances with Wolves contradicts the notion of blood thirsty savages (etc.) that have become all too popular in our culture and perhaps correctly illustrates the so-called “real story” of the American West. Thus, Dances with Wolves enriches the history of this topic and seeking to set the record straight, so to speak. On the other hand, the victimization of the Lakota in the film is critical to the conflict of the story. The vile and murderous troops that are hunting the Lakota tribe during the final scene leave the viewer with the impression that the stalking soldiers are immoral. For fairness sake, the ideologies and beliefs of both groups ought to be examined to fully understand the events of this era, both whites and Indians. However, without this moral absolute the dramatic effect and the sympathy gained by the protagonist are lost. It must be remembered that this is the purpose of film. Rosenstone on the importance of empathy in drama states, “the special capabilities of the medium… intensify the feelings of an audience” (Rosenstone, 59). Dances with Wolves is a good example of a historical film that fails to present history in a professional fashion although it almost attempts a proper revision of history.

Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York (2002) is easily is by far the most complicated film in this discussion. Scorsese’s elaborate set designs bring civil-war era New York to life giving Scorsese the freedom to “invent characters and incidents” in order to dramatize his film (Rosenstone, 60). Expert acting and costume also support this process. The characters are so large that they often seem god-like, especially in the case of Bill “The Butcher” Cutting who controls the neighborhood of five points with “the spectacle of fearsome acts” and whose mannerisms along with his patriotic glass eye steal every scene, even that of his own demise. Cutting is, however, a fictional character given liberties that through is convincing acting urge the viewer to believe the story. This does not elevate the status of a real individual, as in the case of the legends of the heroes of the Alamo, but instead gives dramatization to the historical background of the New York Draft Riots of 1863.

The moralities of the Gangs of New York are, in contrast to Dances with Wolves, strikingly complex. The war between the Natives and Immigrants both set the stage for the plot and finalizes the conflict. This war, within the riots, and furthermore against the backdrop of the civil war is a rare example of how a piece of filmic fiction can give insight into broad ideas about an era, in this case, the 1850s and 1860s, as well as develop a fictional epoch in which to insert dramatic action and engage audiences. There are no moral absolutes in this film, at least among the main characters. While any viewer could take a side, the parties involved are revealed to be both good and evil. The Irish Immigrants and Natives are both thieves, the heroic Vallon is filled with “murderous rage”, and the dastardly antagonist is left defenseless in the most emotional scene of the movie in which he admits to the young Amsterdam Vallon, who is plotting to kill him, that he is the son that he never had. Scorsese makes his film so real that audiences are transported to another time, albeit fictional, and allows the viewer to develop historical interpretations, also out of fiction, by avoiding inaccurate depictions of real-life individuals and obscuring any chance for presentism with the complexity of the characters.

Thus, in regards to fiction or accuracy, both are able to portray history in quasi-realistic terms. The objectivity that historical accuracy requires is difficult to achieve in film but when examined carefully even inaccuracies can still be effective to learning. The Alamo attempts accuracy but what is more critical to understanding the film is the role of Davy Crockett coming to terms with his own folk-legend. Dances with Wolves cast modern notions of morality onto the past to instill the empathy of the audience on the Lakota. And Gangs of New York makes fiction seem literal with its complicated characters and raw drama set in a visually accurate historical background. The fact is that none of these films are precise pieces of history but all three are exemplary of the problems that filmmakers face when portraying the past and how the medium of film can enhance historical perspective.