Remembering the Alamo
by by Char Miller
Professor of History, Trinity University
Just hours before John F. Kennedy was to deliver one of the most important
speeches of the 1960 presidential campaign in Houston, Texas, the Massachusetts
Democrat stood in front of the Alamo. Here, before some 30,000 San Antonians,
Kennedy spoke of America’s future by reflecting on its past: “We
honor the independence of Texas today,” he stated, and then promised,
amid heightened Cold War tensions, to recommit the nation to the advance
of democracy.1 For Kennedy, the one-time Catholic mission provided
an opportunity to defuse Protestant anxieties about the man who would
become the nation’s first Catholic President. “At the shrine
I visited today, the Alamo,” he said to his listeners in Houston,
“side by side with Bowie and Crockett died Fuentes, and McCafferty,
and Bailey, and Badillo, and Carey, but no one knows whether they were
Catholics or not. For there was no religious test there.”2
Thus, in two speeches over twelve hours, John Kennedy used the Alamo’s
complex history and symbolism to shore up political support and tamp down
opposition. He was neither the first nor last to take advantage of the
famed battleground’s emotional claim, and his handling of the memories
it evoked in his varied audiences, however deft, were not unique: the
Alamo has long been a contested space in our historical memory.
How have we and are we to remember the Alamo? That depends, as anthropologist
Holly Brear argues in Inherit the Alamo, on who asks the question
and what answer(s) he or she desires. Certainly controversy swirls around
what is historically significant about the Alamo. For many, its iconic
stature was sealed in early March 1836, when a small band of Texians and
Tejanos fought the much larger Mexican Army commanded by General Antonio
López de San Anna. This struggle between insurgents seeking independence
from Mexico and the Mexican state ended on March 6, with no quarter given
to the defenders. The fatal climax has been heralded ever since. As the
Alamo’s official website asserts: “Although the Alamo fell
on the early morning hours of March 6, 1836, the death of the Alamo Defenders
has come to symbolize courage and sacrifice for the cause of Liberty.”3
But the Alamo also contains an equally important set of meanings linked
to its 1718 founding as Misión San Antonio de Valero. The mission
was established to protect Spain’s claim to what is now south-central
Texas from the Lipan Apache and the French. Its spiritual leaders and
Indian converts were also to spread Catholicism and boost local economic
development. These same goals were served by other missions located south
along the San Antonio River and by the civilian population of San Antonio
de Béxar, situated just west across the river. In 1793, after seven
decades of service, the local missions were secularized and their lands
distributed to their residents. Thus fourty years before the fiery event
at the Alamo, the area had already witnessed a cultural transformation
and religious liberation.
The now secularized mission evolved into a strategically significant military
redoubt and over the next thirty years it served as a Spanish base for
military operations. Revolutionaries opposed to Spain’s imperial
presence later captured it and launched sorties from the site. After Mexico
gained its independence in 1821, the new nation’s flag flew over
the building. But in December 1835, another insurgency erupted in San
Antonio: after fierce house-to-house fighting, General Marín Perfecto
de Cós surrendered the Alamo to a revolutionary force intent on
liberating the province. Col. William B. Travis and a ragtag collection
of volunteers began to refortify the Alamo, hoping to repel General Santa
Anna’s 4000-man Army of Operations.
It was not to be. The insurgents lost the battle, but six weeks later
their comrades-in-arms won the war. On April 21, at San Jacinto, an army
under the command of Sam Houston defeated General Santa Anna’s troops
and captured the Mexican Commander-in-Chief and President. When the Treaty
of Velasco was signed on May 14, 1836, Texas gained its independence.
Even before that moment, the Alamo had gained legendary status. Sam Houston’s
soldiers are said to have shouted “Remember the Alamo!” as
they swept to victory.
To these victors went the spoils: the legendary clash at the Alamo has
had a considerable impact on San Antonio’s social structure, economic
development, and spatial design. By 1850, for instance, the once-Spanish
town had become an American city. Its population, which diminished to
less than a 1000 after 1836, rebounded to more than 3000 in 1850, and
by 1860 it topped 8200, the bulk of whom were Anglos and Germans. The
Mexican population lost its former demographic significance and economic
clout, becoming second-class citizens in an English- and German-speaking
community.
Alamo Plaza reflected this change. It was created when the Alamo’s
walls were torn down. The resulting open space was used to ease commercial
traffic. A park was created in its center and many stores that once surrounded
Main Plaza, the Spanish-colonial hub to the west, migrated to this new
American streetscape around the Alamo. It also became the location of
the U. S. Post Office, hotels, and saloons, while the Alamo itself became
the headquarters of the U. S. Army’s Quartermaster Corps.
In the late nineteenth century, the memory of the 1836 struggle was used
to encourage a lively tourist trade. In popular literature, tourist guides
and public discussion, the Alamo was interpreted as a fight between Euro-American
heroism and Mexican despotism, between courageous whites and cowardly
browns. The once neglected building was refurbished to fit this version
of events, and the Alamo achieved landmark status under the management
of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas. “The heroic, mythic tale
of the Alamo,” observed one anthropologist, had become “a
story about the birth, not merely of Texas, but of the United States and
the western frontier.”
By 1960, this master symbol of the modern West had become so powerful
that even an Irish Catholic New Englander named Kennedy felt compelled
to visit the Alamo in pursuit of votes that would help him capture the
White House.
Footnotes:
- A transcription of Kennedy's remarks in San Antonio can be found here:
http://www.jfklink.com/speeches/jfk/sept60/jfk120960_alamo.html
- Video footage and a transcription of Kennedy's speech to the Greater
Houston Ministerial Association can be found here:
http://www.americanrhetoric.com
/speeches/ jfkhoustonministers.html
- Alamo website: http://www.thealamo.org/
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