In 1492, the discovery of America forced not only the European world to confront its finitude, but also interconnected the rest of that world, showing not only the roundness of a thought that until then had been flat, but also the natural, cultural, and human diversity. The configuration of both worlds had to be reinvented, and that is what happened. At the same time, a vision capable of synthesizing all these perspectives was also developed. This cosmopolitan syncretism was vital to the creation of modern Mexico. Immigration has been part of an exercise to get to know ourselves and the other. This coexistence is also a creative way to define new societies.
Mexico was the Spanish crown jewel. Its value (in addition to its natural resources) was in what it represented from the 16th to the 18th centuries: the connection between the European vision, the east, and the apparently “new” continent that opened up the possibilities of reinventing oneself. The world became round and the New Spain became the belly button of this new configuration. That’s why it was the dream of travelers who sought a journey with no return: they aimed to reinvent themselves somewhere else, to create a different identity, to become part of their surroundings. From Hernán Cortés and Manuel Tolsá, Alexander Humbotl, British pirates, Dutch engineers, British miners, to religious, political, economical pilgrims in perpetual exodus and just adventurers with a desire to be born again, holding onto their deep roots like those of ancient Mexico. Many came to stay in this land founded by Mesoamerican gods. They were seduced by the weather, the vegetation, the fauna, the cultural diversity and, especially, by a different and magical cosmic vision. They decided not only to burn their vessels and stay, but also to blend in, in this land where life was understood differently. Mexicans are a product of this fusion. Our identity is syncretic, a hybrid, based on differences, and this is both our great quality and our great defect. Both aspects are true: one points towards discrimination and the other towards conciliation, both part of the continuity of a multicultural story. This is how an endless number of immigrants from different backgrounds have become part of Mexico’s everyday life and have been crucial in the development of the country. Immigration in the 19th and 20th centuries has particularly contributed to the definition of modern Mexico’s identity. Our current cultural and intellectual richness is a result of both blood Mexicans and Mexicans at heart.
There is an infinite number of people who, beyond their last names, genetic composition, and multicultural backgrounds, have built this country inside out with their visions and personal stories. Frida Kahlo and her father Guillermo Kahlo are part of Mexico’s international compendium. Their German roots blossomed with a Mexican identity. Just like their compatriot Bruno Traven, whose personal story remains an enigma, and who captured Mexican cultural riches like few others have. You just have to read his Collection of Mexican Stories or watch the movies The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, directed by John Huston and starring Humphrey Bogart in 1948, or Macario, directed by Mexican Roberto Gavaldón and nominated for an Oscar as a 'Best Foreign Film' in 1961. Other examples are the O’Gorman brothers, a product of an Irish father and a Mexican mother, whose work is essential in modern Mexico: Juan, from the arts and architecture world, created the beautiful mosaic mural that adorns the main library in the National Autonomous University of Mexico, a World Heritage Site; and Edmundo, from the humanities world, is the author of a fundamental book to understand Mexican idiosyncrasies: The Invention of America, written in 1958. Also with a binational background we have Pedro Armendariz, the son of a gringa and a Mexican, who was the image of the Mexican macho during the Golden Age of national cinema and also a Hollywood Mexican, appearing along side James Bond (Sean Connery) in From Russia with Love, in 1963.
The list of immigrants who have found in Mexico not only a home but also an identity is long. Among the greatest who have enriched the culture we have the Germans Mathias Goeritz, Walter Reuter and Juan Guzmán (Hans Gutmann Guster); the British Joy Laville, Leonora Carrington, Helen Escobedo and Melanie Smith; the Belgian Francis Alÿs; and the Russian Ivan Illich…And this is a brief list representing just a fraction of the stories from other migratory waves like the Lebanese, who not only transformed neighborhoods like La Merced, but also filled the movie screens and stages and the literature world with talent. From Joaquín Pardavé, who proves this point with films like El Baisano Jalil (1942) and El Barchante Neguib (1946), to the playwright Héctor Azar and even the actress Salma Hayek. Likewise, the arrival of Jewish people from different countries has left a mark in the intellectual world as indelible as that left by the Spaniards escaping the Spanish Civil War, or the Argentineans and Chileans escaping their dictatorships. The names go on: Jacobo and Abraham Zabludovsky, Ludwik Margules, Ramón Xirau, Vicente Rojo, Federico Álvarez, Juan Gelman…
And there are also others who, without renouncing their nationalities, have been influenced by their experiences in Mexico: Luis Buñuel, Malcom Lowry, Susan Sontag, Jimmy Durham, John Huston, William Burroughs, D. C. Pierre and Roberto Bolaño, among many others.
The other’s perception has been crucial in the gestation of a Mexican identity that is always evolving.
Translation by Mariana Carreño King.
This article was originally published in the Diplomatic Courier's January/February 2014 print edition.
Photo: Eneas De Troya (cc).
a global affairs media network
Immigration’s Indelible Mark
February 13, 2014
In 1492, the discovery of America forced not only the European world to confront its finitude, but also interconnected the rest of that world, showing not only the roundness of a thought that until then had been flat, but also the natural, cultural, and human diversity. The configuration of both worlds had to be reinvented, and that is what happened. At the same time, a vision capable of synthesizing all these perspectives was also developed. This cosmopolitan syncretism was vital to the creation of modern Mexico. Immigration has been part of an exercise to get to know ourselves and the other. This coexistence is also a creative way to define new societies.
Mexico was the Spanish crown jewel. Its value (in addition to its natural resources) was in what it represented from the 16th to the 18th centuries: the connection between the European vision, the east, and the apparently “new” continent that opened up the possibilities of reinventing oneself. The world became round and the New Spain became the belly button of this new configuration. That’s why it was the dream of travelers who sought a journey with no return: they aimed to reinvent themselves somewhere else, to create a different identity, to become part of their surroundings. From Hernán Cortés and Manuel Tolsá, Alexander Humbotl, British pirates, Dutch engineers, British miners, to religious, political, economical pilgrims in perpetual exodus and just adventurers with a desire to be born again, holding onto their deep roots like those of ancient Mexico. Many came to stay in this land founded by Mesoamerican gods. They were seduced by the weather, the vegetation, the fauna, the cultural diversity and, especially, by a different and magical cosmic vision. They decided not only to burn their vessels and stay, but also to blend in, in this land where life was understood differently. Mexicans are a product of this fusion. Our identity is syncretic, a hybrid, based on differences, and this is both our great quality and our great defect. Both aspects are true: one points towards discrimination and the other towards conciliation, both part of the continuity of a multicultural story. This is how an endless number of immigrants from different backgrounds have become part of Mexico’s everyday life and have been crucial in the development of the country. Immigration in the 19th and 20th centuries has particularly contributed to the definition of modern Mexico’s identity. Our current cultural and intellectual richness is a result of both blood Mexicans and Mexicans at heart.
There is an infinite number of people who, beyond their last names, genetic composition, and multicultural backgrounds, have built this country inside out with their visions and personal stories. Frida Kahlo and her father Guillermo Kahlo are part of Mexico’s international compendium. Their German roots blossomed with a Mexican identity. Just like their compatriot Bruno Traven, whose personal story remains an enigma, and who captured Mexican cultural riches like few others have. You just have to read his Collection of Mexican Stories or watch the movies The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, directed by John Huston and starring Humphrey Bogart in 1948, or Macario, directed by Mexican Roberto Gavaldón and nominated for an Oscar as a 'Best Foreign Film' in 1961. Other examples are the O’Gorman brothers, a product of an Irish father and a Mexican mother, whose work is essential in modern Mexico: Juan, from the arts and architecture world, created the beautiful mosaic mural that adorns the main library in the National Autonomous University of Mexico, a World Heritage Site; and Edmundo, from the humanities world, is the author of a fundamental book to understand Mexican idiosyncrasies: The Invention of America, written in 1958. Also with a binational background we have Pedro Armendariz, the son of a gringa and a Mexican, who was the image of the Mexican macho during the Golden Age of national cinema and also a Hollywood Mexican, appearing along side James Bond (Sean Connery) in From Russia with Love, in 1963.
The list of immigrants who have found in Mexico not only a home but also an identity is long. Among the greatest who have enriched the culture we have the Germans Mathias Goeritz, Walter Reuter and Juan Guzmán (Hans Gutmann Guster); the British Joy Laville, Leonora Carrington, Helen Escobedo and Melanie Smith; the Belgian Francis Alÿs; and the Russian Ivan Illich…And this is a brief list representing just a fraction of the stories from other migratory waves like the Lebanese, who not only transformed neighborhoods like La Merced, but also filled the movie screens and stages and the literature world with talent. From Joaquín Pardavé, who proves this point with films like El Baisano Jalil (1942) and El Barchante Neguib (1946), to the playwright Héctor Azar and even the actress Salma Hayek. Likewise, the arrival of Jewish people from different countries has left a mark in the intellectual world as indelible as that left by the Spaniards escaping the Spanish Civil War, or the Argentineans and Chileans escaping their dictatorships. The names go on: Jacobo and Abraham Zabludovsky, Ludwik Margules, Ramón Xirau, Vicente Rojo, Federico Álvarez, Juan Gelman…
And there are also others who, without renouncing their nationalities, have been influenced by their experiences in Mexico: Luis Buñuel, Malcom Lowry, Susan Sontag, Jimmy Durham, John Huston, William Burroughs, D. C. Pierre and Roberto Bolaño, among many others.
The other’s perception has been crucial in the gestation of a Mexican identity that is always evolving.
Translation by Mariana Carreño King.
This article was originally published in the Diplomatic Courier's January/February 2014 print edition.
Photo: Eneas De Troya (cc).
