To install click the Add extension button. That's it.

The source code for the WIKI 2 extension is being checked by specialists of the Mozilla Foundation, Google, and Apple. You could also do it yourself at any point in time.

4,5
Kelly Slayton
Congratulations on this excellent venture… what a great idea!
Alexander Grigorievskiy
I use WIKI 2 every day and almost forgot how the original Wikipedia looks like.
Live Statistics
English Articles
Improved in 24 Hours
Added in 24 Hours
What we do. Every page goes through several hundred of perfecting techniques; in live mode. Quite the same Wikipedia. Just better.
.
Leo
Newton
Brights
Milds

Early life of José de San Martín

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

José de San Martín was an Argentine general and the prime leader of the southern part of South America's successful struggle for independence from Spain.

YouTube Encyclopedic

  • 1/2
    Views:
    2 253 649
    3 708 760
  • Latin American Revolutions: Crash Course World History #31
  • The Rise of the Machines – Why Automation is Different this Time

Transcription

Hi, I’m John Green, this is Crash Course World History and today things are going to get a little bit confusing, because we’re going to talk about revolution and independence in Latin America. It’s a bit confusing because 1. Latin America is big, 2. It’s very diverse, 3. Napoleon makes everything complicated and 4. As we’ve seen in the past, sometimes revolutions turn out not to be not that revolutionary. [why a solid marketing dept. is key] Witness, for instance, the New England Revolution, who instead of, like, trying to form new and better governments are always just kicking balls around like all the other soccer [futbol] teams. [Intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] Right, so before independence, Latin American society was characterized by three institutions that exercised control over the population. The first was the Spanish Crown, or if you are Brazilian, the Portuguese crown. So, as far as Spain was concerned, the job of the colonies was to produce revenue in the form of a 20% tax on everything that was called “the royal fifth.” So government administration was pervasive and relatively efficient— because it had to be in order to collect its royal fifth. I mean, the church even controlled time – the church bells tolled out the hours and they mandated a seven day work week so that people could go to church on Sunday. [so HobbyLobby store hours aren't super inconvenient, they're just old skool?] And finally, there was patriarchy. [yeuup, there's a shocker] In Latin America, like much of the world, husbands had complete control over their wives and any extra-or-pre-marital skoodilypooping was severely punished. I mean, when it was the women doing the illicit skoodilypooping. Men could basically get up to whatever. [RIP Helen Gurley Brown. much love] This was mainly about property rights because illegitimate children could inherit their father’s property, but it was constructed to be about, you know, purity. To get a sense of how patriarchy shaped Latin American lives, take a gander at Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, whose name I’m actually abbreviating. A child prodigy who spoke five languages by the age of 16, de la Cruz wanted to disguise herself as a boy so she could attend University, [plot of 80's flick Just One of the Guys] but she was forbidden to do so. Still, she wrote plays and poetry, she studied math and natural science, [Girls do Get Curves, Danica McKellar!] and for being one of the leading minds of the 17th century, she was widely attacked, and eventually forced to abandon her work and sell all 4,000 of her books. That’s a shame because she had a great mind, once writing that “Aristotle would have written more if he had done any cooking.” [oooh, snap!] Couple other things: First, Latin America led the world in transculturation or Cultural Blending. A new and distinct Latin American culture emerged mixing 1. Whites from Spain called Peninsulares, 2. Whites born in the Americas called creoles, 3. Native Americans, and 4. African slaves. This blending of cultures may be most obvious when looking at Native American and African influences upon Christianity. The Virgin of Guadalupe, for instance, was still called Tonantzin, the indigenous earth goddess, by Indians, and the profusion of blood in Mexican iconography recalls the Aztec use of blood in ritual. But transculturation pervaded Latin American life, from food to secular music to fashion. Somewhat related: Latin America had a great deal of racial diversity and a rigid social hierarchy to match. There were four basic racial categories: white, black, mestizo –a mix of white and American Indian- and mulatto, a mix of white and black. We try not to use that word anymore because it’s offensive, but that’s the word they used. And from the 16th century on, Latin America had a huge diversity of mixed race people, and there were constant attempts to classify them and divide them into castes. You can see some of these in so called casta paintings, which attempted to establish in a very weird and Enlightenment-y way all the possible racial combinations. But of course that’s not how race works, as evidenced by the fact that successful people of lower racial castes could become “legally white” by being granted gracias al sacar. [pretty jacked up, white? right, I mean..] So by 1800, on the eve of Latin America’s independence movements, roughly a quarter of the population were mixed race. So Brazil… he said as thousands of Argentinians booed him— is obviously different because it was ruled, not by Spain, but by Portugal. But like a lot of revolutions in Latin America, it was fairly conservative. The creoles wanted to maintain their privilege while also achieving independence from the Peninsulares. And also like a lot of Latin American revolutions, it featured Napoleon. [forever makes me think of Bill &Ted] Freaking Napoleon. You’re everywhere. [except in line for certain roller coasters] He’s behind me, isn’t he? Gah. So when Napoleon took over Portugal in 1807, the entire Portuguese royal family and their royal court decamped to Brazil. And it turned out, they loved Brazil. King Joao loved Brazil so much. Off topic, but do you think that J-Woww named herself after King Joao? I mean, does she have that kind of historical sensibility? I think she does. [that whole bit really just happened, btw] So King Joao’s life in Rio was so good that even after Napoleon was defeated at the Battle of Waterloo, he just kind of stayed in Brazil. And then, by 1820, the Portuguese in Portugal were like, “Hey, maybe you should come back and, like, you know, govern us, King of Portugal.” So in 1821, he reluctantly returned to Lisbon, leaving his son Prince Pedro behind. Meanwhile, Brazilian creoles were organizing themselves around the idea that they were culturally different from Portugal, and they eventually f ormed a Brazilian Party— no, Stan not that kind of party, come on— yes. That kind. A Brazilian party to lobby for independence. Then in 1822, they convinced Prince Pedro of boring, old Portugal that he should just become King Pedro of sexy, big Brazil. So Pedro declared Brazil an independent constitutional monarchy with himself as king. [as one does, naturally] As a result, Brazil achieved independence without much bloodshed and managed to hold on to that social hierarchy with the plantation owners on top. And that explains why Brazil was the last new world country to abolish slavery, not fully abandoning it until 1888. Right, so even when Napoleon wasn’t forcing Portuguese royals into an awesome exile, he was still messing with Latin America. Let’s go to the Thought Bubble. So Latin America’s independence movements began not with Brazil, but in Mexico when Napoleon put his brother on the Spanish throne in 1808. [nepotism; always a classy move] Napoleon wanted to institute the liberal principles of the French Revolution, which angered the ruling elite of the Peninsulares in what was then called New Spain. They were aristocrats and they just wanted to go back to some good old-fashioned divine right monarchy with a strong church. So the Mexican Creoles, seeking to expand their own power at the expense of the Peninsular elite saw an opportunity here. They affirmed their loyalty to the new king, who was French even though he was the king of Spain. I told you this was complicated. Then, a massive peasant uprising began, led by a renegade priest Padre Hidalgo, and supported by the Creoles because it was aimed at the Peninsulares, even though they weren’t actually the ones who supported Spain. This was further complicated by the fact that to the mestizo peasants led by Hidalgo, Creoles and Peninsulares looked and acted basically identical— they were both white and imperious— [preferable to avada kedavrious?] so the peasants often attacked the Creoles, who were, technically on their side in trying to overthrow the ruling peninsulares. Even though it had tens of thousands of supporters, this first peasant uprising petered out. But, a second peasant revolt, led by another priest, Father Morelos, was much more revolutionary. In 1813, he declared independence and the revolt lasted until his death in 1815. But since he was a mestizo, he didn’t gain much Creole support, so revolutionary fervor in Mexico began to fade until … 1820, when Spain, which was now under the rule of a Spanish, rather than a French king, had a REAL liberal revolution with a new constitution that limited the power of the church. Thanks, Thought Bubble. So, in the wake of Spain’s liberalizing movements, the Mexican elites, who had previously supported Spain, switched sides and made common cause with the creoles in the hopes that they could somehow hold onto their privileges. And pushing for independence together, things went very well. [stay together to stay alive, just like L4D!] The Creole general Iturbide and the rebel mestizo commander Guerrero joined forces and won independence with most of the Peninsulares returning to Spain. Iturbide –the whiter of the two generals – became king of Mexico in 1822 (remember, this was a revolution essentially AGAINST representative government). But that didn’t work out and within a year he was overthrown by the military and a republic was declared. Popular sovereignty was sort of victorious, but without much benefit to the peasants who actually made independence possible. This alliance between conservative landowning elites and the army - especially in the face of calls for land reform or economic justice— would happen over and over again in Latin America for the next century and a half. But before we come to any conclusions, let’s discuss one last revolution. But, the interior of Venezuela was home to mixed-race cowboys called llaneros who supported the king. They kept the Caracas revolutionaries from extending their power inland. And that, is where Simon Bolivar, “el Libertador,” [young portrait w foppish 'stache is fave] enters the picture. Bolivar realized that the only way to overcome the various class divisions (like the one between the Caracas creoles and llaneros) was to appeal to a common sense of South American-ness. I mean, after all, the one thing that almost all South Americans had in common: they were born in South America, NOT SPAIN. So then, partly through shows of toughness that included, like, crossing flooded plains and going without sleep, Bolivar convinced the llaneros to give up fighting for Spain and start fighting against them. He quickly captured the viceregal capital at Bogota and by 1822 his forces had taken Caracas and Quito. Hold on, hold on. Lest I be attacked by Argentinians [to get back the plutonium you stole?] who are already upset about what I said about their really good soccer team, I want to make one thing clear. Argentina’s general Jose de San Martin was also vital to the defeat of the Spanish. He led an expeditions against the Spanish in Chile and also a really important one in Lima. [helping McKinley advance to Nationals over dreaded rivals, Vocal Adrenaline] And then, in December of 1824, at the battle of Ayacucho, the last Spanish viceroy was finally captured and all of Latin America was free from Spain. Oh, it’s time for the open letter? That’s A chair, Stan, but it’s not THE chair. [damp spirit kicks internal pebble] [rolls with broken heart to unimpressive leather-not-puce-velvet club chair sub] An Open Letter to Simon Bolivar. [part-time purple pieman impersonator] But first, let’s see what’s in the secret compartment today. Oh, llanero. I wonder if his hips swivel when I wind him up. [sorry, Meatwad, night-vision goggles & action bills not included.] Context is everything. They do! Hey there, cowboy. Dear Simon Bolivar, First, you had fantastic [legit] muttonchops. It’s as if you’re some kind of handsome Martin Van Buren. [surely an original sentence there] You were a man of immense accomplishments, but those accomplishments have been richly rewarded. I mean, you have a country named after you. Not to mention, two different currencies. [Canadian loonie pwns, regardless] But for my purposes, the most important thing you ever did was die. You may not know this, Simon Bolivar, but when I'm not a world history teacher sitting next to a fake fireplace, I am a novelist. [young adult + Dawson's Creek FanFic] [tell you his pen names for a price] And your last words, “Damn it, how will I ever get out of this labyrinth,” feature prominently in my first novel, Looking for Alaska. [ sup, Nerdfighteria? xoxo, dj ] Except it turns out, those weren’t your last words. [d'oh?] Your last words were probably, “Jose, bring the luggage.” [alt: "Hey, watch this!"] But I decided to use your fancy, romantic, inaccurate last words. It’s called artistic license. Put that in your luggage. [my, Johnny Bookwriter is saucy today] Anyway, fantastic life. I just wish you’d nailed it a little bit better with your last words. Best wishes, John Green So by 1825, almost the entire western hemisphere – with a few exceptions in the Caribbean —was free from European rule. Oh, right. And Canada. [Oh, Canada!] I’m just kidding, Canadians. It’s so easy to make fun of you because you’re so nice. So I tease you and then you’re like, “Aw, thanks for noticing that we exist.” My pleasure. Anyway, this is pretty remarkable, especially when you consider that most of this territory had been under Spanish or Portuguese control for almost 300 years. The most revolutionary thing about these independence movements were that they enshrined the idea of so called popular sovereignty in the New World. Never again would Latin America be under the permanent control of a European power, and the relatively quick division of Latin America into individual states, despite Bolivar’s pan South American dream, showed how quickly the people in these regions developed a sense of themselves as nations distinct from Europe, and from each other. This division into nation states prefigures what would happen to Europe in the mid-19th century, and in that sense, Latin America is the leader of 19th century world history. And Latin American history presages another key theme in modern life— multiculturalism. And all of that makes Latin America sound very modern, but in a number of ways, Latin American independence wasn’t terribly revolutionary. First, while the Peninsulares were gone, the rigid social hierarchy, with the wealthy creoles at the top, remained. Second, whereas revolutions in both France and America weakened the power of the established church, in Latin America, the Catholic Church remained very powerful in people’s everyday lives. And then, there is the patriarchy. Although there were many women who took up arms in the struggle for independence, including Juana Azurduy who led a cavalry charge against Spanish forces in Bolivia, patriarchy remained strong in Latin America. Feminist ideas like those of Mary Wollstonecraft would have to wait. Women weren’t allowed to vote in national elections in Mexico until 1953. And Peru didn’t extend voting rights to women until 1955. Also, Latin America’s revolutionary wars were long and bloody: 425,000 people died in Mexico’s war for independence. And they didn’t always lead to stability: Venezuela, for instance, experienced war for much of the 19th century, leading to as many as a million deaths. And it’s important to note that fighting for freedom doesn’t always lead to freedom, the past two centuries in Latin America have seen many military dictatorships that protect private property at the expense of egalitarian governance. “Freedom,” “independence,” and “autonomy” are complicated terms that mean different things to different people at different times. So too with the word “revolutionary.” Thanks for watching. I’ll see you next week. Location change because I forgot to record the credits, and my shirt matches the wall. Probably should have thought about that one a little bit harder. [DFT record the credits, next time then?] Crash Course is produced and directed by Stan Muller. Our script supervisor is Danica Johnson, [!] the show is ably interned by Agent Meredith Danko, TVCS and it’s written by my high school history teacher Raoul Meyer and myself. Our graphics team is Thought Bubble. Last week’s phrase of the week was "giant squid of anger." If you want to suggest a future phrase of the week or guess at this week’s, you can do so in comments, where you can also ask questions that will be answered by our team of historians. Look at the beautiful Crash Course poster! [nice job, ThoughtBubblers!] Available now at DFTBA.com link in the video description. Thanks for watching, and as we say in my home town, Don’t Forget they can’t get your goat if they don’t know where you keep it.

Year of birth controversy

The house where José de San Martín was born, sited in Yapeyú, Corrientes, photographed in 1899

Juan García del Río, a close friend of San Martín, wrote a brief biography of him in 1823, stating that he was born in 1778. The historian Bartolomé Mitre, author of "Historia de San Martín y de la emancipación sudamericana took the date as correct, and it remained canonical since then.[1] However, later investigations would generate doubts about the accuracy of the year. No record of his baptism have been found so far. In his marriage, in 1812, he declared being 31 years old, meaning he would have been born in 1781. However, such a date has been rejected, as San Martín joined the Regiment of Murcia on July 21, 1789, and he couldn't have done so being just eight years old, as twelve was the minimum age required to do so.[1] San Martín's age became even more uncertain when his military service records were examined, as they attribute him inconsistent ages. In 1803 he's reported to be 20 years old (i.e. born in 1783), in 1806 with 27 years (i.e. born in 1779) and in 1808 with 26 years (i.e. born in 1782).[1]

Remains of the original house of San Martín, exhibited in 2009

José Pacífico Otero found the record of the baptism of San Martín's sister, María Elena, dated August 18, 1778.[1] Clearly, the same woman couldn't have given birth to 2 different babies in the same year. However, Otero considers that the year in the document had been falsified, for unknown reasons. Otero considers instead that the correct date was February 25, 1777. He based his reasoning in a number of documents: his passport of 1824, which states an age of 47 years, a private mailing with Ramón Castilla, in 1848, declaring being 71 years old, and the ship "Santa Balbina" that took him to Spain in 1783 gives him an age of 6 years.[2]

Patricia Pasquali wrote the biography "San Martín" in 1999, and considered the date provided by Mitre to be the correct one. She took as evidence an issue of the magazine "Ensayos y Rumbos", from 1921, where Fray Reginaldo de la Cruz Saldaña Retamar published a birth record for San Martín.[2] However, the same historian acknowledges that the original used by Reginaldo to back his claims is unknown.[2]

Place of birth

Despite the lack of a baptism record to give a definitive confirmation, it is agreed by all sources that San Martín was born at Yapeyú, Corrientes. However, the exact physical location of the house where he lived is uncertain, since Yapeyú had been devastated in 1817 by a Portuguese raid from colonial Brazil. There is a monolith at a location stated to be his home, but the researcher Carlos Zuberbühler asserts that it should have been in Santo Tomé instead.[3]

Parents

Basic family tree of General San Martín.

His father was Juan de San Martín, a native of Cervatos de la Cueza (province of Palencia), born on February 3, 1728. He served in the military, but couldn't get promoted beyond the rank of captain due to not being of noble origin. He arrived to South America in 1765. José de San Martín's mother was Gregoria Matorras del Ser, a native of Paredes de Nava (province of Palencia), born on March 12, 1738. Juan de San Martín and Gregoria Matorras were married on October 1, 1770, settling in the Banda Oriental (Viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata). They had three children there: María Helena, Manuel Tadeo and Juan Fermín. After Juan was designated governor of Yapeyú in 1774, they relocated there and had their fourth son, Justo Rufino, and finally José Francisco de San Martín.[4]

Juan de San Martín faced many indigenous rebellions, and viceroy Juan José de Vértiz y Salcedo removed him from his charge in 1780. He left Yapeyú in February 1781, and returned to Buenos Aires. As a result, José de San Martín only lived for around three or four years in Yapeyú.

Many people that met San Martín described him as having olive skin and indigenous traits. Some historians like Ricardo Rojas or Pastor Obligado suspected that could have been an illegitimate son of either Juan or Gregoria Matorras with someone else.[5] However, his complexion could also be result of Moorish ancestry in one of them.[5] José Ignacio García Hamilton proposed another explanation: he was the son of Don Diego de Alvear y Ponce de León and Rosa Guarú, an indigenous woman, who would have requested the San Martín family to adopt him as their own son to avoid a scandal. This explanation would explain San Martín's complexion and the lack of a baptism record, but the dates do not support it. Alvear got married in 1782 and visited the zone, but as described earlier, the birth of San Martín took place earlier, at either 1777 or 1778.[6]

Infancy

José Francisco lived his first four years under the combined influences of his Hispanic American family and the local Guaraní population. At home, he would have learned the Spanish language, uses and customs of Spanish heritage and the Catholic religion. Other children of the zone were Guaraní peoples, so he would have learned the Guaraní language language as well. Guaraníes had also their own uses, customs and religions, such as the San La Muerte cult.[7] Alonso Piñeiro points out that San Martín would have learned his first reading skills at the school of Yapeyú, but the chance is unlikely as he left the city being just four years old.[7] He also had an indigenous wet nurse named Rosa Guarú, mentioned by local folk songs.[7]

Juan moved to Buenos Aires in 1781, drafted for the Regiment of Spanish volunteers. His house would have been located at the modern Piedras street, between Moreno and Belgrano. José could have been in school at the Santo Domingo Convent, but if he was he would have taken just the first grade, due to his age. Juan was requesting to be moved to a Spanish regiment in the Iberian peninsula, and finally left Buenos Aires with his family in 1783. He took the "Santa Balbina" ship on December 6, and the reports list that, besides both parents, they moved with José Francisco (six years old), María Elena (twelve years old), Manuel Tadeo (eleven years old), Fermín (10 years old), Justo Rufino (eight years old) and Antonio, a family slave.[8] They arrived to Cadiz in March, 1784, and moved to Madrid. The family endured with just 1500 pesos that Juan brought from the Americas, he couldn't get a new military appointment or his unpaid wages. He requested retirement and wages of colonel, citing his 57 years old and 37 years of military service, but he could only get the retirement. Finally, he was destined to Málaga as a supporting officer, with wages of 300 reales per month.[9]

Bartolomé Mitre considers that, during this time, San Martín made studies at the Real seminary of nobles, in Madrid. Otero points that it was unlikely that San Martín could be accepted at a school for nobility when he did not have noble ancestry, but accepts a point suggested by Domingo Faustino Sarmiento: he could have been accepted because of coming from a distinguished, even if not noble, family.[10] However, later investigations dismissed the idea completely. The 1934 director of the National Historical Archive of Spain denied to Luis Enrique Azarola Gil that San Martín had attended that school in the time between 1770 and 1799. He said that "I apologize if this categoric statement may contradict in something the biography of San Martín, but things are like this, and we must stick to the factual things".[11] Besides, the San Martín family stayed in Madrid for a single year, between 1784 and 1785, while Juan expected an answer to his request of retirement or a new military destiny. José María Garante Córdoba considers it unlikely that Juan would send his children to school under such circumstances, and even Juan himself regrets in one of those requests that he could not allow his children to study.[10] Besides, it is completely unlikely that the family would move and leave the infant José alone in Madrid to pursue studies. Spanish historians that studied the life of San Martín at their country consider instead that he made his studies at the free School of Temporalities, in Málaga.[10] But, as he arrived to the city in 1785 and joined the army in 1789, he would not have completed the six-years elementary education.

Bibliography

  • Galasso, Norberto (2009). Seamos Libres y lo demás no importa nada. Buenos Aires: Colihue. ISBN 978-950-581-779-5.

References

  1. ^ a b c d Galasso, p. 11
  2. ^ a b c Galasso, p. 12
  3. ^ Galasso, p. 12-13
  4. ^ Galasso, p. 13
  5. ^ a b Galasso, p. 17
  6. ^ Galasso, p. 18
  7. ^ a b c Galasso, p. 14
  8. ^ Galasso, p. 21
  9. ^ Galasso, p. 22
  10. ^ a b c Galasso, p. 23
  11. ^ "Siento de veras que esta afirmación descisiva pueda contrariar en algo la biografía de San Martín, pero así es y a los hechos concetos debemos atenernos" - Galasso, p. 23.
This page was last edited on 26 November 2023, at 22:31
Basis of this page is in Wikipedia. Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported License. Non-text media are available under their specified licenses. Wikipedia® is a registered trademark of the Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. WIKI 2 is an independent company and has no affiliation with Wikimedia Foundation.