The Governor Hears the Door Slam

Right—I usually back away from this topic, which is not a hot potato but a burning and radioactive one instead.

If you’re a gringo, the word  “status” has no particular meaning for you. If you’re Puerto Rican, you tense—here it comes, the old but undiminished in its ferocity debate on whether Puerto Rico should be a state, independent, or continue as it is.

And what is that, you ask?

Depends on whom you ask. In Spanish, our status is something called Estado Libre Asociado, which puzzled me the first time I saw it, those decades ago.

“How can something be free and yet a state and yet associated,” I asked Mr. Fernández, those many years ago.

Little did I know…

“IT’S A LIE, IT’S A TRICK, IT’S A BASE AND FOUL CANARD….”

Hint—remove trajectables (it’s a word in Spanish, computer!) at the onset of any discussion of status.

Advocates of our current status have developed a capacity to smoke screen unparalleled by any other group of fanatics. We are a nation, goes the theory, a sovereign nation in “association” with the United States. We therefore hold US passports, receive federal benefits, pay no taxes, and don’t vote for president. In fact, Puerto Rico is one of the few places—the US Virgin Islands is another—in the world where an American citizen cannot vote for president, and has no voting representation in Congress. And for those of you who gnashed their teeth through the eight long years of George W. Bush, trust me—you would have been spared them had Puerto Rico been allowed to vote….

We got to be citizens back in 1917, with the passage of the Jones Act. And how convenient that was, because there was a little war going on—the first of the World Wars—and Puerto Ricans died, and have subsequently died in every other war, in disproportionate numbers.

 Which is what made me believe, fifteen years back, that our current status is heart-stoppingly simple, as well as cynical. Here’s the deal—the rich and empowered Puerto Ricans receive federal dollars in turn for the blood and lives of their poorer brothers.

Predictably, there are those who aren’t satisfied with that. So periodically we have plebiscites—usually when there is a statehood governor. And our last plebiscite, in November 2012, was a double decker—first we were asked if we were satisfied with our current territorial status; then we were asked to choose between statehood, independence, or a sovereign nation in association with the United States.

Also predictably, the Popular Democratic Party—which champions our current status—frothed at the mouth at the mention of the word “territorial.” The party has been trying for years to deny that we are an unincorporated territory. Instead, they hope to “improve” our current status, presumably by getting full parity of money with the states, not paying taxes, but being fully represented in Congress. The last time anyone expressed this idea to a puzzled congress, one congressman noted that if that idea were feasible, he’d have to go home and recommend that his constituents pursue the same option. And so last Wednesday the Energy and Natural Resources Committee held a hearing, and the governor ran up to Washington to advocate for “enhanced” commonwealth.

He had a pretty rotten time of it.

Here’s what the chairman, Ron Wyden, had to say at the start of the session:

The “New Commonwealth” option continues to be advocated as a viable option by some. It is not.

Persistence in supporting this option after it has been rejected as inconsistent with the U.S. Constitution by the U.S. Justice Department, by the bipartisan leadership of this Committee, by the House, and by the Clinton, Bush, and Obama Administrations undermines resolution of Puerto Rico’s status question.

Well, ABC news reports that the governor was “frustrated” with the event. Here’s a sample of what he said:

In a meeting with reporters after the hearing he said he favors an "enhanced" commonwealth status that would give Puerto Rico "maximum autonomy" while cementing a permanent relationship with the United States. He'd like Congress and Puerto Rico to agree on which federal laws should apply to Puerto Rico and which should not. He would oppose laws that would be "harmful" to the island's development, he said, but didn't go into further detail.

Wyden, apparently, didn’t buy in. Here’s more of the opening statement:

Puerto Rico must either exercise full self-government as a sovereign nation, or achieve equality among the States of the Union.

The current relationship undermines the United States’ moral standing in the world. For a nation founded on the principles of democracy and the consent of the governed, how much longer can America allow a condition to persist in which nearly four million U.S. citizens do not have a vote in the government that makes the national laws which affect their daily lives? That is the question.

At last—a congressman got it….

Una Dama, Though Cynical

“Quizzical,” I thought, when I first saw Antonio Quiñones Calderón. There was something—perhaps an ever-so-slightly raised eyebrow—that suggested puzzlement. Or perhaps it was a newspaperman’s curiosity mixed with slight anxiety?

I have a minor talent—I put people at ease. He sat down and told me his story.

And what a remarkable story. Tony grew up in a small town on the west side of the island seven decades ago; his father died either before he was born or just afterwards (can’t recall). At any rate, he grew up early assuming responsibility.

As well as writing. So he wrote his way through high school, and then headed off to work—he had to help his mother and sister back home. And where does a writer who needs a job get one?

At El Mundo, now defunct but then a very serious, respected newspaper. And Tony—fresh out of high school, no money or time for college—started at the bottom. And he worked his way up, in traditional newspaper fashion, from writing obits to the police beat to covering municipal meetings, to finally get the big stuff.

“I remember the funeral of Muñoz Marín—I was covering it for El Mundo,” he said, “and yes, it was big….”

I’m picking his brains, first because the pickings are very good indeed, and second to get him to talk. What is he writing about now?

“A history of the corruption in Puerto Rico,” said Tony.

“Tony, that’s gonna be one long book,” I said.

We joke a bit—he has a wry, self-deprecating humor.

“And how is your health,” I asked—Tony is in his mid-seventies.

Well, I shouldn’t have worried: Tony has one impressive track record. He wakes up and writes, seven days a week. And he’s put together an impressive body of work: 50 Décadas de historia puertoriqueña, published in 1992; La perversión de la política; En los pasillos de poder: Testimonio íntimo de un Secretario de Prensa, 1998; Reflexiones de periodista; El Libro de Puerto Rico; the list goes on and on up until his most recent book, Carlos Romero Barceló: Una vida por la Igualidad. He has about as many books as you and I have fingers and toes.

Well, if anyone can write a book about ex-governor Romero Barceló, it would be Tony. Why? Because he was press secretary for two terms for him, and served in the same capacity for former Governor Luis A. Ferré.

He is unabashedly a statehooder, feeling—as Ferré did—that he preferred to be a state, but if the US said “no,” he’d be quite content to be independent. But colony is anathema to him.

And though a statehooder, he’s tough and fair-minded: he cuts the politicians who favor statehood no slack.

“You’re a cynical old newspaperman,” I told him, after he had pronounced our legislators “gangsters.”

“Old? Old? The rest I accept, but old?”

Relatively speaking, Tony may have a point: his mother is 92 and going strong.

Well, I know newspaper people, having grown up around them. And Tony reminds me very much of my own father: hardworking, critical but just, dig-until-you-hit-the-pay-dirt.

There’s something more about Tony. Beyond knowing more than almost anyone about the political history of Puerto Rico, he’s an expression of something wonderful about Puerto Rico. A self-made man, he sent his kids off to the States; two of them went to Yale. They’re now judges, lawyers, doctors.

We agreed about it a couple weeks ago. What keeps us on this island, with our horrendous crime, our gangster legislature, our continuing economic crisis? Why don’t we bail out and move to Florida; why not join the majority of Puerto Ricans who live off, not on, the island?

The people.

The people like Tony: gentle, kind, scrupulously honest, and gently self-ironic. He is egalitarian in a noble way, extending the same courtesy to all. My mother would have called him a “sweet man.”

But we have an expression, down here, probably very old, probably directly from Spain.

Él es una dama.

Colonies—Coming and Going

Readers of this blog may have noted the absence of a new post yesterday.

Sorry—I, and most of the rest of the island, was feeling a bit the worse for wear.

No, no fight. Just the second most-ardent passion on the island.

Politics?

Yup—politics. We do ‘em with a flare, I’m happy to say. Starting with the caravanas, that snake around the island towns, blaring jingles loud enough to tumble the coconuts (seriously, that’s the name—tumbacocos,—really the speaker that dwarfs an Austin Mini….). Like so many things, it’s very colorful, unless, of course, you have anything you need to do.

Like call your boss, announce “this is where I am” and hold your phone up.

Boss will get it, of course, and hold his phone up.

You’ll commiserate, and agree to meet for lunch.

Well, this election was special, since it offered yet another chance to weigh in on the ever-pressing question of the political status of Puerto Rico.

I’ve written about the status issue before. In my first decade on the island, it was fiercely discussed. Now?

Gone underground.

Nor can I tell you why. It may be that Puerto Rico is so beset with other problems—one thinks of the 1000 murders a year (twice that of New York City) or the unemployment rate of 15%—that no one can bear to deal with another one. And, it’s true, nothing sets off the fire eater (that comefuego down here) than a brisk trot through the status issue.

Or even a stroll, which is how one of the most colorful characters did it. Long, dirty hair, baggy pants, a sign with myriad messages, and most importantly…

…a megaphone!

Look guys, I’m no one to talk—having a voice that can blow a semi from the highway—but a Puerto Rican with a megaphone is serious system overdesign…

So there he’d be, loping down the sidewalk, with his megaphone and…

…a message!

¡La colonia se va! The colony is going!

This confident pronouncement made two thirds of the political spectrum beam—if spectra can beam…

Unfortunately, it was the diametrically opposing spectra.

Both the people favoring independence and the people rooting for statehood (order by alphabet, please note!) agree on one—and only one—thing.

What we got now is a colony.

No, no—cries the middle, those defending the Free Associated State!

It’s a little like the trinity—one of those absurdities where a great deal of verbiage and intellectual energy has been spent uselessly and pointlessly.

But there are those who will fight anyone challenging the contention that Truman and Muñoz Marín sat down representing sovereign entities and negotiated a deal. One that can be…

…improved!

Rather, enhanced!

This notion is perhaps better expressed in lyrical Spanish instead of cold English.

“You mean, you don’t want to pay taxes, but want the vote, but don’t want to fight in the army, and want full parity in ALL federal programs without any of the responsibilities?”

Or words to that effect. Clearly, a gringo singularly lacking in imagination.

Well, the senator, or representative, or whoever he was, finally said, yeah! Great idea! And he was gonna go back home to Nebraska and get everybody on board with it!

For Nebraska, not Puerto Rico.

Well, it was therefore refreshing to hear—at last—a Free Associated Statehooder freely admitting it! And no less than through his very own megaphone!

Yup, so molested (molesto) was he that he bought a megaphone, and was booming out the counter-news.

¡La colonia se queda!

Was I hearing that right?

“Yup,” said Mr. Fernández, nodding his head in wonder.

The colony is staying!

Thus, for several weeks, we had megaphoned ideological discourse. Neighborhood response?

Less than pleased!

Which may be why Germán, that day, finally settled it for good. And he’s a guy of some weight.

Which may be why the colonia se va guy did nothing as Germán snatched the megaphone from his hands, slammed it on the sidewalk, and stomped it to death.

Never did find out what happened to the colonia se queda’s megaphone….