The cry of Dolores, the cry for freedom, By Owei Lakemfa

The story of Mexico is not necessarily that of colonialism, heroic resistance and the large scale seizure or theft of its territories by the United States. It is more of the tragic human loss of one of the most sophisticated and beautiful civilisations in human history, which had the potential of taking human development in a different direction from the alienation and modernism we have today.

The clatter in the hall went dead. Silence enveloped the gathering. What was now heard was the thud of boots. It grew louder as a uniform-clad personnel marched in through the door. Stretched before him was a big flag. He marched determinedly to the dais. Stopped before a solemn-faced Alfredo Miranda, the Mexican Ambassador in Nigeria. He handed over the vertically striped tricolour of green, white and red flag. The event was to mark the Mexican War of Independence, which began 214 years ago.

The Mexican national flag, the Bandera de Mexico, was handed over to the Ambassador in Abuja on that night of Sunday, 15 September, in a gathering of mostly ambassadors accredited to Nigeria.

The flag also has a central coat of arms made up of an eagle, a cactus and a serpent. It is the recall of an Aztec legend of a golden eagle sitting on a cactus, while devouring a serpent.

Ambassador Miranda made a declaration, handed the flag back to the uniformed personnel who, after a number of sharp military turns, marched out of the hall.

This ceremony was also performed simultaneously in Mexico by President Andre Lopaz Obrador, all mayors in the country and in all Mexican missions across the universe.

It is the dramatisation of the scene on 15 September, 1810, when a priest, Miguel Hildago y Costilla, in the poor town of Dolores, rang the parish bell to summon the town flock to mass. But, rather than the usual service, Father Hildago told his congregation to revolt. He then issued a call to arms, the Grito de Dolores.

His declaration of “down with bad government” was re-echoed from balconies. His small congregation armed itself with whatever weapons were available, including work tools, bows and arrows. It marched through Dolores to other towns, sacking government officials, smashing structures, and setting prisoners free. The ever-swelling mass of the people was more of a movement than an army, but they put the royalist army to flight.

Mexico was one of the best human civilisations, but it had been destroyed by Spanish colonialists. Now the people, angered by economic inequality, lopsided land distribution and unrepresentative state institutions, wanted their country back by any means necessary.

Mexico was one of the best human civilisations, but it had been destroyed by Spanish colonialists. Now the people, angered by economic inequality, lopsided land distribution and unrepresentative state institutions, wanted their country back by any means necessary.

Spain had assumed that Mexico, which it called Viceroyalty of New Spain, would forever be part of its territory.

Eventually, Hidalgo and some leaders of the liberation movement were captured and executed. Their heads were severed and hung in public to scare other liberation fighters. But that did not end the struggle; rather, it propelled it until 27 September, 1821 when the liberation fighters marched triumphant into Mexico City. The next day, they proclaimed the Declaration of Independence of the Mexican Empire. Eventually, the country adopted the name, United Mexican States.

The eleven-year war ended 300 years of Spanish colonial rule, and established a unique Mexican identity. But defeated Spain would not accept the new reality; so for another decade, it refused to recognise Mexico as a separate and independent country with sovereign rights.

The story of Mexico is not necessarily that of colonialism, heroic resistance and the large scale seizure or theft of its territories by the United States. It is more of the tragic human loss of one of the most sophisticated and beautiful civilisations in human history, which had the potential of taking human development in a different direction from the alienation and modernism we have today.

It is all the more painful to realise that the destruction of such a great civilisation was done by a people who, by their own confession, were far less civilised and developed.

Ambassador Miranda, in a 12 August paper at the International Conference to End Colonialism in the World held in Abuja, quoted two of such Spanish confessions by the invading Spanish forces.

The first was by Spanish soldier and historian, Bernal Diaz del Castillo, who wrote: “We arrived at the wide causeway and headed towards Estapalapa. And from the moment we saw so many cities and towns populated in the water, and on firm land other large settlements, and that straight causeway going to Mexico, we were amazed, and we said it seemed like the things of enchantment told in the book of Amadís, for the great towers… and buildings they had in the water, all made of stone, and some of our soldiers even said that what they saw seemed like a dream…”

As the night wore on at the Mexican Embassy with polite discussions, those events 214 years ago, weighed on my mind. I reflected on how wonderful the world might have been without the scourges of colonialism and neo-colonialism.

The leader of the conquering Spanish military, Hernan Cortés, in a letter to the King of Spain, wrote: “There are very large cities with marvellous buildings and great trade and wealth, among which there is one more marvellous and rich than all others, called Tenustitlan, which is, by wonderful art, built over a large lagoon…”.

It is this enchanting civilisation the Spanish invaders, whose primary motives were loot and territory, destroyed.

Miranda said of that irrecoverable destruction: “After nearly three months of an implacable siege and a resistance as heroic as it was futile, the European invaders triumphantly entered the Aztec capital and immediately began the physical destruction of the city. Temples and palaces were demolished, and their stones were used to erect churches, many built on the foundations of Tenochca pyramids, and residences or houses for the conquerors. In this painful way, Tenochtitlán (Mexican central city) began to transform into Mexico City, which from its inception was the capital of a much vaster empire that replaced New Spain.”

Thus, began the nightmarish 300 years of Mexican colonisation and decimation. Bulgarian-born Professor of History, 94-year-old Enrique Semo, famous author of The History of Capitalism In Mexico, wrote about the effects of the invasion on the Mexican people. In his The Conquest, he wrote that the Mexican populace was decimated, not just by the invasion and epidemics, but also by “slavery, mistreatment, famines, consequent physical weakening, as well as loss of will to live.”

As Walter Rodney, author of the famous 1972 book, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, noted: “Colonialism had only one hand – it was a one-armed bandit.” One of the best illustrations of the criminal nature and banditry that is colonialism, was the invasion of Mexico.

Ambassador Miranda, speaking on his country’s past said: “As we reflect on this complex history, we acknowledge the strength and ingenuity of our ancestors, who forged a path through adversity to create a vibrant and diverse society. It is this enduring legacy that inspires us to continue striving for justice, equality, and the preservation of our cultural identity.”

As the night wore on at the Mexican Embassy with polite discussions, those events 214 years ago, weighed on my mind. I reflected on how wonderful the world might have been without the scourges of colonialism and neo-colonialism.

Owei Lakemfa, a former secretary general of African workers, is a human rights activist, journalist and author.