Imperial Impersonations: Chilean Racism and the War of the Pacific
Ericka Beckman | University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
Abstract:
The War of the Pacific, fought between Chile, Peru and Bolivia at the end of the nineteenth century, marked a watershed moment in the creation of narratives of race and nation in all three countries. Chile, as the victor nation, annexed swaths of Peruvian and Bolivian territory, extending its borders by one-third and gaining a world monopoly on the supply of nitrates (in high demand in Europe as a fertilizer and explosive). Military aggression was framed in explicitly racial terms. In an instance of what I call “imperial impersonation,” Chilean state actors cast themselves in the role of European colonizers fighting against the “inferior races” of Peru and Bolivia. This piece examines the rhetorical effectiveness and inherent contradictoriness of Chilean articulations of white supremacy in the context of the War.
The War of the Pacific, fought between Chile, Peru and Bolivia at the end of the nineteenth century, marked a watershed moment in the creation of narratives of race and nation in all three countries. Chile, as the victor nation, annexed swaths of Peruvian and Bolivian territory, extending its borders by one-third and gaining a world monopoly on the supply of nitrates (in high demand in Europe as a fertilizer and explosive). Military aggression was framed in explicitly racial terms. In an instance of what I call “imperial impersonation,” Chilean state actors cast themselves in the role of European colonizers fighting against the “inferior races” of Peru and Bolivia. This piece examines the rhetorical effectiveness and inherent contradictoriness of Chilean articulations of white supremacy in the context of the War.
Bolivians, the Chilean Admiral José Toribio
Merino infamously remarked near the end of the twentieth century, are no
more than “metamorphosized camelids [auquénidos metamorfoseados],
who have learned to speak, but not to think.” This slur, uttered by one
of the founding members of Pinochet’s military junta, was made in
reference to the Bolivian state’s on-going efforts to reclaim territory
lost to Chile over a century earlier, during the War of the Pacific
(1879–1884). Fought for control over nitrate deposits in Peru and
Bolivia, this war resulted in Chile’s annexation of wide swaths of both
nations’ territories, an outcome that has left Bolivia landlocked up to
the present. It was also during this war that Chile occupied the city of
Lima for nearly two years, a humiliation that is burned into Peruvian
national memory.
Merino’s recourse to the most naked form of
racism in a discussion of geopolitical matters (precisely, the question
of Bolivia’s access to the sea) is not entirely shocking given the
genealogy of discourses of Chilean national sovereignty from the
nineteenth century to the present. Instead, in characterizing Bolivians
as barely-evolved animals, Merino was repeating elements of a discourse
that was itself constituted during the War of the Pacific, as Chilean
state actors justified their military aggression as an inevitable
conflict between “superior” and “inferior” races. During this war, the
historically contingent boundaries of the nation-state became reimagined
by Chilean elites as contiguous with a pre-ordained racial destiny, in
the formulation of an enduring myth of Chilean racial superiority
vis-à-vis its Andean neighbors.
The War of the Pacific was fought over
nitrates, a highly lucrative export commodity used as a fertilizer in
Europe, and the Chilean aggressors were backed financially and morally
by neocolonial British interests (Amayo 1998, Vitale 1993). British
empire also provided a discursive framework through which the Chilean
state articulated its right to rule. Borrowing the language of the
“civilizing mission” and “white man’s burden,” the Chilean state assumed
the mantle of imperial right, a move that at once erased British
neocolonial interests from view and situated Chile within the fold of
“white” nations, fulfilling the destiny of “civilization” on a global
scale.
The cornerstone of Chilean imperial identity
during the War of the Pacific was whiteness, a racial category that
went far beyond phenotype to vouch for the virility, discipline, and
morality of a homogenized “Chilean race.” Peruvian and Bolivian creoles,
mestizos, Indians, blacks and Chinese, in contrast, were coded as
racially degenerate, with inferiority measured in terms of effeminacy,
laziness and backwardness. One of the key figures in the articulation of
this racial discourse was Benjamín Vicuña Mackenna, the noted
nineteenth-century historian and statesman (Figure 1). In the newspaper
Vicuña Mackenna founded to cover the war, El Nuevo Ferrocarril, the
historian framed Chilean aggression as “(t)he noble march and the even
more noble conquest of work, of creative order, and of vigorous
industry” against the “torpid laziness and incurable disorder of other
races,” who had allowed their territories “to become barren and
sterile.” (Vicuña 1879a1). Rehearsing the central tropes of
nineteenth-century Northern European empire, here bourgeois economic
ideology expresses itself through a lexicon of racial difference.
The War of the Pacific marked a moment in
which Chilean elites rewrote national history and identity through the
categories offered by an already established vocabulary of
nineteenth-century Northern European imperial reason. As a political
project, Chilean racism has proven an extremely effective arm of state
reason, at the same time as its potency has been contradicted by the
real configurations of empire on a global scale (in which Chile is not
an empire, but a distant periphery). This contradiction is proper to the
appropriation of the language and politics of imperial reason by a
peripheral nation, one which might best be grasped as a strategy of
imperial impersonation. The term “imperial impersonation” can be
understood in the context of the War of the Pacific as the will to
occupy the discursive space of the European colonizer vis-à-vis
neighboring nations. Another prominent nineteenth-century historian,
Diego Barros Arana, wrote a history of the War before it had ended and
noted that Chile was an exception among nations of the continent. In it
he claimed that its people had “mixed little with Indians” after the
Conquest, and that as a result, Chile is home to “an active and serious
race,” one that “wants to equal the British, and which one traveler has
compared to the Dutch family” (Barros Arana 1914: 16).
This ongoing establishment of European
racial credentials—passing through categories such as morality, virility
and work ethic—allowed Chilean elites to extract their nation from a
shared history with its neighbors, and to imagine Chile as a global
agent of white civilization. It was through this metonymic transfer that
Chilean newspapers could argue, for example, that soldiers should
annihilate Peruvian and Bolivians in the same manner as the British were
annihilating the Zulus in South Africa (qtd. in Sater, 31–32). Theaters
of the war such as the Atacama Desert and Lima became stages for
impersonation techniques, with agents garbed in the pomp of European
empire. In another article by Vicuña Mackenna, the historian culls
lessons from the French experience in Algeria to properly protect
Chilean soldiers in the inhospitable desert climate of Southern Peru.
One of his recommendations is that Chilean soldiers be fed, like their
French counterparts, a diet of café noir and rice (Vicuña
1879b: 1). Throughout the occupation of Lima, Chilean correspondents
marked this city as “tropical” and degenerate (in contrast with the more
temperate climes of Chile), and markedly “Oriental.” Erasing more than
three centuries of shared history, Vicuña Mackenna compares Lima—the
center of Spanish colonial power in South America—with Cairo, awaiting
colonization by whites (Vicuña 1880b: 2).
These strategies of imperial impersonation
were buttressed by specific claims about the racial inferiority of
Peruvians and Bolivians.2 In “The Army of Tupac Amaru,”
Vicuña Mackenna writes that the Peruvian army is “completely Indian,
entirely indigenous and quechua,” for the historian clear evidence of
its inability to withstand Chilean aggression (2). In addition to
familiar characterizations of Indians as “inert” and “passive,” Vicuña’s
racist discourse constantly animalizes and feminizes. The Peruvian
Indian, for example, is characterized as not a man (macho), but a mule (mula).
And the racial “variety” of Lima, including mestizos, blacks, and
Chinese (a constant theme in wartime reports), is in turn characterized
as akin to the collection of animals at a Barnum and Bailey circus
(Ibid). An engraving appearing in Vicuña Mackenna’s newspaper takes
racialized degradation into the field of visual representation.
Following the outlines of European racial “types,” “Physionomies of the
Allied Army” depicts the heads of Peruvian and Bolivian soldiers from a
side view, drawn with flat foreheads and noses, protruding lower lips,
slanted eyes, and either iron-straight or tightly curled hair (Figure
2). The accompanying text reads: “That army is quite notable, most of
all, for its variety of races, which are almost a variety of species and
which almost authorizes the assumption that man comes from the ape or
from…the elephant” (Vicuña 1879c: 3).
Like all racist discourses, Chile’s
imperial-inspired version was rife with contradictions, within the
nation, but also vis-à-vis the European examples it sought to imitate.
Chilean racism obliged creole elites to “impersonate” metropolitan
authorities at the same time as the very act of impersonation could
easily become a site of inferiority or artificiality (a logic defined in
larger terms by Carlos Alonso [1998] as “the burden of modernity”).
This is not to say that Chilean whiteness fell short of “the real
thing”—as if such a thing existed outside of racist fantasy—but rather
that the very categories established by European empire might be used to
uphold or undermine peripheral claims to authority.
Chile’s imperial self-image was upheld by
some important material results: following the annexation of Peruvian
and Bolivian nitrate fields, the state mobilized to “pacify” its
racialized internal enemies, the Mapuche Indians of the South. The
maximum expression of post-War imperial optimism was the state’s
acquisition of an economically unimportant but symbolically significant
South Seas colony, Easter Island.3 Yet the verisimilitude of
Chilean “empire” could not endure for long: the opening of the Panama
Canal, along with the invention of synthetic nitrates in Europe,
relegated Chile once again to the distant periphery of capitalist world
production by the early twentieth century. As a vestige of imperial
victories in the War of the Pacific, Chileans would proudly remain “the
British of South America,” but citizens of South America nonetheless.
The lasting power of Chilean empire matters
less than the continuing effects of its claims about racial difference
and belonging. In the past decade, Peruvian immigrants in Chile—employed
mainly as service workers—have been constant targets of racism, often
phrased in the same dehumanizing terms as those rehearsed during the War
of the Pacific. Projecting outside the nation, Chilean identity remains
deeply embedded within claims to Europeanness. Appeals to the country’s
“racial homogeneity,” temperate climate, industriousness, and
institutional stability are fundamental to national identity, and have
proven quite useful when courting foreign capital. The problem here is
not, again, that the Chilean nation might only imperfectly or
incompletely wield the discourse of white supremacy, but rather the
extent to which this discourse retains legitimacy today, in Latin
America and beyond.
A related article, "The Creolization of Imperial Reason: Chilean
State Racism in the War of the Pacific," is forthcoming from the Journal of Latin American Cultural Studies. 2009 (18: 1).Ericka Beckman is Assistant Professor of Spanish and Comparative Literature at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. She is currently completing a book manuscript entitled Capital Fictions: Writing Latin America’s Export Age (1870–1930), a study of the ideologies and literary forms that emerged during the region’s first major experiment with economic liberalism and globalization.
Notes
1 All references from El Nuevo Ferrocarril were collected at the library of the Museo Nacional Benjamín Vicuña Mackenna in Santiago, Chile. Translations are my own.
2 It is important to note that Chilean elites did not have a monopoly on racist discourse; nineteenth-century elites in Peru and Bolivia had themselves relied upon notions of white supremacy to establish their right to rule. Thus part of the effectiveness of racism as wielded during the War of the Pacific was that it was common currency of post-Independence Latin American elites. In the War of the Pacific, Chilean elites were able to manipulate European racial hierarchies to their advantage, turning them against their creole counterparts in Peru and Bolivia.
3 For centuries, Spanish colonizers and creole elites had not been able to gain control of the Mapuche-dominated Araucanía. It was only in 1883, as Chile was still embroiled in the War of the Pacific, that the region was finally brought under state control; as in the United States and Argentina, this campaign was made possible by the genocidal combination of state armies, railways, and firearms. Easter Island, in turn, was claimed by Chile in 1888. At this time, Easter Island was the only South Seas island to remain unclaimed by a European power. Since then, the island has carried mainly symbolic significance for Chile, captured in the image of the moais (ancient Rapa Nui sculptures), which today decorate everything from Chilean tour guides to advertisements for airlines and telephone companies.
Works Cited
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Alonso, Carlos J. 1998. The Burden of Modernity. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Diego Barros Arana. 1914. Obras Completas, v. XVI. Historia de la Guerra del Pacífico (1879–1881). Santiago: Imprenta, Litografía i Encardenación Barcelona.
Sater, William. 1986. Chile and the War of the Pacific. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.
Vicuña Mackenna, Benjamin. 1879a. “Aullagas.” El Nuevo Ferrocarril, 28 July: 1.
-----. 1879b. “¡En el Desierto! La Guerra en Africa.” El Nuevo Ferrocarril, 6 October: 1.
-----. 1879c. “Fisonomias del ejercito aliado.” El Nuevo ferrocarril. 4 December 1879: 3.
-----. 1880a. “El ejército del Tupac-Amaru.” El Nuevo Ferrocarril, 18 October: 2.
-----. 1880b. “El Clima de Lima. Con relación al organismo i hábitos del soldado chileno.” El Nuevo Ferrocarril, 4 November: 2.
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