Interview
‘Heroes of February’: One hundred years of revolution in Panama
A century after the rebellion, as celebrations and centennial conferences are ongoing in the capital's cultural centers, Panama has once again had a February rife with tension. The recent rise of the imperialist winds aiming at different sectors of the country has been exacerbated by the statements of Donald Trump, who last month made explicit his desire to “take back” the Panama Canal.
“Don't look for them, brother, in the graves / Don't look for them among the aged chronicles / When you stop looking for them, you will walk with them / Creators of the future, of utopia and tenderness,” wrote Aiban Wagua, the Panamanian writer, thinker and poet from the indigenous Guna community, in one of his most famous poems.
His words are dedicated to the “heroes of February”: a group of young Guna people who in February 1925, pushed to the breaking point by the military and cultural abuses of the central government, took up arms and declared war on the Republic of Panama.
Going down in history as the “Revolución Tule” (“Tule Revolution”), the 1925 insurrection was the first indigenous uprising in 20th century Latin America to achieve the goal of self-government. As a result of the uprising, Panama's central power was forced to recognize the autonomy of Guna Yala, literally “the land of the Guna,” which today stretches from the Caribbean archipelago of the San Blás Islands to the impenetrable Darién jungle bordering Colombia.
A century after the rebellion, as celebrations and centennial conferences are ongoing in the capital's cultural centers, Panama has once again had a February rife with tension. The recent rise of the imperialist winds aiming at different sectors of the country has been exacerbated by the statements of Donald Trump, who last month made explicit his desire to “take back” the Panama Canal.
The White House's positions were enough to recall the political pains of the country’s stormy twentieth century. The “mangled” independence of 1903 forced the youngest of the Latin American states to go through its first century of national history under the stifling protective wing of the successive U.S. governments, direct managers of the Canal's revenues from its construction in 1914 until 1999.
It was during the Canal's early years that Panama's eastern shores saw the irresistible rise of demands for self-determination and social justice by the Guna (or Tule) people. In addition to opposition to the late colonial dreams of the Panamanian governments at the turn of the century, whose plans for the “civilization” of indigenous communities included the banning of traditional dress and customs, Guna society also rose up in 1925 against the encroachments on their territories by some large North American rubber and banana multinationals.
The two facets of the Tule Revolution – the fight for cultural autonomy and the anti-imperialist stand – are coming back to the forefront today, in Panama's restless present. We spoke about this with Atilio Martinez, Guna historian and coordinator of the Tule Revolution memorial events.
What did the Tule Revolution represent for the Panamanian indigenous peoples?
For us Guna, the Revolution was the result of a permanent struggle against government policies. Since its founding in 1903, the Republic of Panama imposed a plan of forced civilization in our territories, in line with the colonial era. With the Ley de Civilización of 1912, the situation worsened. They wanted to force us to speak their language and dress like them. The letters of President Belisario Porras (1920-1924) called molas [traditional Guna textiles] “savage ornaments.”
Guna women who wore them were fined or arrested. Sacred ceremonies were banned, places of assembly were shut down. In addition, dozens of concessions were issued to foreign private rubber and banana companies, particularly in the Gulf of Mandinga. They were deforesting our lands, destroying the trees that were sacred to us. Those were also the years of the construction of the Canal, and our lands were being occupied by the enormous influx of labor from the Antilles.
The situation was disastrous. We found ourselves compelled to defend ourselves by force. We drove out the government’s armed forces, we fought hard for our autonomy. So today, the Revolution represents a historical example: a model for other indigenous peoples in Panama and on the continent. In 1925, indigenous struggles were still newly emerging. We gave proof that indigenous people still had a voice in history. The Guna Yala territory was not a gift from the government. We took it with the blood of our grandparents.
What are your methods as a historian to reconstruct the events of a Revolution that seems to have been “forgotten” in Latin American history?
I have been working for decades on collecting the oral history of my people. I try to complement the history built up from the documents of waga (foreign) researchers with the oral record: historical facts can also be found in traditional therapeutic songs, in myths, in what you call “legends.” Sometimes older people in the community don’t want to share our knowledge, because they consider it sacred. However, when they die, a whole library, a history dies with them. My research starts with them. As a Guna, I am able to have their trust.
It’s not easy work, because the Revolution rarely shows up in Panama's history books. Whenever it is taught in schools, they stress its alleged negative aspects: they claim it was a violent insurrection, that it was organized by a “mad gringo,” Richard Marsh, and that the flag of the rebellion was inspired by a Nazi symbol. Those claims are obviously false. Regarding Marsh, we simply had contact with an eccentric anthropologist who was looking for albino natives. We have always talked with everyone, even pirates. But he didn’t instigate anything. On the contrary, in his diaries he declared himself against the insurrection.
About the flag: it was a symbol woven by a little girl in the years of the Revolution. It symbolizes the protection of land and spirit in the four cardinal points. It is inspired by the shape of a medicinal plant, which we call agvandur. Since this information is based on our oral memory, it isn’t given due importance. This is the colonial mentality: everything we create is thought of as a result of European influence.
The 1925 Revolution can be considered one of the successful revolutions on the continent. What are the challenges faced by the Guna people today?
The achievement of Guna Yala's legal autonomy, formalized in 1938, is an achievement that must still be defended today. It is necessary to continue organizing ourselves according to our own laws, teaching our own language. The other challenge is the protection of the territory. Some of the lands have been usurped by the Panamanian government and handed over to multinational corporations. We are waging a legal battle in the Inter-American Court to get them back. Nowadays, we are also facing the challenge of tourism, and the large-scale transit of migrants going to the U.S. through the Darién jungle. The environmental impact is significant, especially in the case of tourism, which has seen a large increase in recent years.
What about internationally? How does Guna society position itself in the face of new interference by the U.S.?
I won’t deny that there is an internal debate about that. We young people, academics and teachers are frightened by Trump's words, and opposed to any U.S. interference. Among older people, there are mixed attitudes. Some worked in the canal zone when they were young, earning good wages, and have good memories of the gringos back then. They often contrast them with the current Panamanian managers of the canal, who earn outrageous amounts and don’t redistribute anything to the workers. Indeed, that was not what was agreed with the “return of the canal to the people of Panama.”
The history of Panama and the Guna people is deeply connected to the sea: canals, islands, oceans. What has been the relationship between your history and maritime space?
In the new fundamental law of the Guna people, it is made explicit that the protection of the territory includes not only the forests and the jungle, but also the sea. In our myths, the sea is “the grandmother who protects us.” In this age of global warming, some Guna communities have had to migrate from the islands to the mainland. But they continue to be people of the sea, living with it, defending it. Even more so nowadays.
Originally published at https://ilmanifesto.it/centanni-di-rivoluzione-a-panama on 2025-03-04