About to embark in yet another election year ride, we are tormented with multiple problems having to do with our future existence, none of which is more important than education. Following the news of the Porto Jewish Community recent inauguration of a memorial dedicated to those of the same faith who perished or were forcibly exiled from the city, during the years of the Portuguese Inquisition, which lasted from 1536 to 1821, I came to realize I needed to talk about this particular subject. No, not education itself, and no, not the Inquisition. During those years, a lot more was going on with Portugal and its archenemy, Spain.
Influenced by the nostalgic epic poems of Luís de Camões, Portugal's youngest king's dreams of glory led him to summon practically all of the Portuguese nobility and their men at arms, together with other European soldiers of fortune, and engage in his very own Crusade in North Africa, seeking to expand the already existing territories located in today's Morocco, mainly Ceuta and Tangier, after the loss of a few others to the Arabs. The formidable army was too much for anything the Arabs could muster in the area, as they were well aware. So instead of meeting them in battle near the coast, the Arabs lured the Crusaders inland, to the desert. And when the mighty force was far enough from the sea and the supply lines over stretched, after days of intense heat in their European armor, the Arab forces engaged the Portuguese army in a desert field known as Alcácer Quibir, where they were slaughtered practically to the last man.
The death of D. Sebastião, in the Battle of Alcácer Quibir in 1578, brought succession problems to the kingdom that soon resulted in the loss of Portugal's independence. His successor, Cardinal D. Henrique, ascended to the throne in that year, but he passed away two years later without leaving any heirs. It was in this context that D. Filipe, King of Spain, ultimately took the Portuguese throne, and Portugal lost its independence. During the 60 years of the dynastic union, the discontent of the Portuguese grew. Taxes continued to rise to fund the wars that Spain maintained, especially with France, England, and the Netherlands. Portuguese soldiers had to participate in these wars, and the empire began to be invaded by soldiers from the kingdoms at war with Spain, who also considered the Portuguese their enemies. On December 1, 1640, a revolt erupted that brought independence back to Portugal, with the acclaim of the Duke of Bragança as D. João IV, King of Portugal, although the wars continued until 1668, the year peace was established.
A somewhat long preamble to this piece, meant to signify both Portugal's former glory and mighty Empire and its fragility, common to all great nations. Also the fact that the Spanish Inquisition was very active in Portugal during the "dynastic union". To bring back a collective memory, that I shared as Portuguese born, and was part of what made possible the rise of Fascism in Portugal, during the 1920s, as I mention in "The Nazis" (*), down this blog's archive, the collective longing for the disappeared young king - romantically rumored to have survived that fateful day at Alcácer Quibir - to return one foggy morning, and restore the Empire to its rightful glory. I shared those dreams as a child, the romantic young king's appeal was inescapable. And yet...
Growing up in Europe, traveling around, having the benefit of a classical education in one of the best private schools in the country (at the time), and the privilege of loving parents with an understanding for culture and education that far exceeded their own, I was always aware of how important it is to reconcile ourselves with our past. It takes nothing away from the pride in one's country, as its glory and the recognition of its crimes share the common greatness of any Nation, the first in its own right, the later by means of acquired knowledge that even the greatest Empires have flaws to answer for. And nobody is neither exceptional, nor perfect. We are all humans. Deeply flawed humans. As I mentioned before along the Threads I thread, and the posts I blog, my knowledge of the United States was skewed by distance and selection. No I did not have "Howdy Doody Time", but I did have "Mickey Mouse Club", and a lot of other American cultural icons, from television to romance, from cinema to poetry, and History, of course. One of my favorite readings was a two volume American Civil War history by Bernard Michal, entitled "História Vivida da Guerra da Secessão" (A Lived History of the Secession War). In Portuguese. I was like 15 years old. Reading about America's tragic History from the pen of a Frenchman. I would in time get to know Tocqueville, what do you know, another French guy writing about America.
Portugal, Spain, Britain, Germany, France, Italy... All had deeply troubled pasts. But, in several degrees, they all learned to live with them. To learn from them. To allow them to transpire from History books to the classroom. And to allow enough knowledge, recognition, and understanding to unlock the future endeavors awaiting them, as Peoples and as Nations. This is why the Portuguese erect memorials to their once victims, now proud members of their society. This is why the Germans placed all Nazi relics in museums, and their record in History books that are read and studied in classrooms. Remember who we once were, so we may never repeat the mistakes of the past. How can I, born Portuguese, with all the misery and pain caused by the Empire through the centuries, still be proud of my seafaring country of birth? How can the Germans, stigmatized by the horrors inflicted upon the world by the Third Reich, be so proud of their long and prestigious heritage? Because we know how wrong it also went, and had the courage and moral imperative to acknowledge our crimes, and by recognizing them, expunge them from any standing they may hold in the future.
But not us. Not in America. We, as a people and as a nation, are systematically, willfully, and purposefully erasing all our past crimes, exalting all our former glories that supposedly justify them, and teaching our children how being a slave is better than being dead, that Union and Confederate soldiers were all good people unfortunately caught on the wrong side of each other, that the Holocaust is highly exaggerated, if not a hoax, and that women are expected to behave and obey their husbands, and to carry unwanted pregnancies to term as young as 14 years old. We are indeed an exceptional nation. And we are making sure our future will rest in the hands of these little Hitlers, groomed to become masters of the Earth. As it should be.
If we do not take this matter to task immediately, fighting the obscenity that is becoming the norm in our public schools, and once and for all kick private education to the sidelines, where it will remain as an obsolete tool fewer and fewer will want to use, making education not the goal, but the pillar of our future, we will not have any future at all. At least not one I would want to live in.
We, as Americans, are the only Western democracy that has not reconciled itself with its past. And that is the one and only American exceptionalism. One we should all be ashamed of. And willing to do anything we can to change. It's time.
[finis]
(*) The Nazis. (see blogpost here).
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