“The Conquests & Interventions in Panama” by General Manuel Antonio Noriega (3/11/1997)
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“The Conquests & Interventions in Panama”
by Manuel Antonio Noriega
March 11, 1997
Vasco Nuñez de Balboa had already traveled some distance into the lands of the isthmus when upon this unforeseen journey he arrived at an area of peaceful Indians, living in the confluence of two great and navigable lowland rivers. The rivers were connected to each other by the laws of ebb and flow. The Spaniards observed that when the tides receded, the waters withdrew in a raging torrent toward the sea. The Indians told the conquerors that the river, which they called the Tuira, ran its course “to the great salty seas,” something that made no sense at all to Balboa’s troops. But when the tide rose, seawater ran upstream into the Tuira. This unique ebb and flow of the tides between the two mighty rivers can be seen still where the Spaniards built the fortress of Yaviza, a staging point for their continuing incursion into what would become known as Panama.
Yaviza was the same name the Spaniards gave to the natives, whom they heard shout excitedly, when the tide came in and they ran to fill their cauldrons with fresh water while they could, “Yavi-za!, Yavi-za!” — “The water is coming, the water is coming.”
It was from this fort on the shores of the Rio Chucunaque, which was fed by the waters of the Chico, which in turn ran into the greatest and most voluminous river of Darien, the Tuira, that Balboa set sail in 1511 for the west coast of Panama. The settlement was already known by the name Santa María de la Antigua del Darien.
Here, in an open field, in the shadow of the venerable walls, with the echoes of the river, by the ancient and forgotten first Spanish fortress on the isthmus, Jose del Carmen Mejía came as a teacher. His students were the people who lived nearby and he taught them no matter their age or previous education. Elsa and Alberto Ayala were there; so was Aida Moreno. Also sitting in the shade of the fortress were Fernando and Eliécer Alguero; Manuel Aguirre; Chichi, Edy and Yolanda Lay; Teresa, Rafael and Hilario Mejía; Matías Ayala and one more — me, in the arms of my mother, María Felix Moreno Mejía.
Dozens of young people, Choco Indians and others came to be educated by my great uncle Jose del Carmen, who was the leader and culture advocate for the entire area, as well as a protector of the Indians.
Today there is still a humble reminder of those lessons — the school in Yaviza bears the name of Jose del Carmen Mejía, the little man of Darien. He was of Spanish ancestry, a descendant of Rafael Mejía and Fernando Mejía, who respectively married Ramona Peralta and Petra Morales, the most immediate relatives I had on my mother’s side.
The Spanish conquerors hugged the northwestern coast of the Gulf of Uraba and advanced eastward along the islands of San Blas. The area is located above the Caserio Careta, later known as Acla, in the Bay of Caledonia. These were said to be the lands of Chief Careta, who surrendered to the power of the invaders. It was here, so the legend goes, that Careta showered Balboa with gifts, including his own daughter, Princess Anayansi, in a gesture of peace and friendship.
The Spaniards obtained reinforcements here and advanced farther to the northwest, unto the realm of the neighboring Chief Poncha, on the other side of the dividing mountain range. Faced with the presence of such supernatural beings of resplendent helmets and armaments, Poncha and his tribe fled without a fight. Now controlling the territory of Poncha, they marched to the southeast, to the lands of Chief Comagre, who was also subjugated. This broad conquest extended Balboa’s control from San Blas to the upper and middle portions of the Chucunaque River. It was there in the lands of Comagre, at the foot of the mountains, on his western flank, gazing southward, that Balboa first saw those great salty seas mentioned by the Indians at Yaviza.
Historic narrative, sprinkled with legend, says that the Spanish, upon seeing the objects of gold and nuggets that had been given to them, raised so much commotion that in the excitement they began to fight among themselves. Gazing upon this spectacle, Panquiaco, the son of Chief Comagre, was both disgusted and surprised. “Why do you fight for such meaningless things given to you by my father?” he called to them, mockingly. “If you follow this path, after a quarter moon, you will find an immense expanse of saltwater, whose currents will carry you to a great land with an even greater chief, where you will find such stones lying all about.” The route described by Panquiaco ends at the empire of Tihuantisurgo of the Incas, the children of the sun of Peru.
Balboa immediately understood. How could he get there? he asked. He sought information that he could transfer to his charts and maps — features of the land, rivers, valleys, soil types, vegetation, types of mountains, the chiefs in the area and the characteristics of their warriors, wealth, the women, the animals that inhabited the region.
With all this local intelligence, he asked the chief for help to undertake a journey that had become the dream of his very existence.
The number of men chosen to go with him on his quest was estimated to be one thousand. Balboa, excited with the greed for gold and for conquering new lands and kingdoms, returned to the territory of Careta and ordered his ships to set sail for Santa María to prepare for the great adventure.
With singular dedication of time and energy, all was swiftly prepared for their departure: a sailing vessel with two masts, twelve canoes, two hundred Spanish soldiers, a large number of Indians and a pack of hounds, among them the legendary Leoncico, which Balboa had brought from Spain.
The logistics completed, they weighed anchor on September 1, 1513, from Santa María. The ship’s log indicates that they fought a headwind, arriving at the village of Careta on Sunday, September 4. They tied up the boat and secured its lines and placed the canoes on shore Indian style, upside down.
On Tuesday, September 6, they weighed anchor again and entered the vast unknown saltwater sea, which was the route toward the empire where gold could be found everywhere among the rocks.
They sailed away from the dominion of Careta, crossed over the dividing hills and continued on their way to Acla-Paso Caledonia, arriving once again in the land of Poncha, who on September 13 paid homage to Balboa. Balboa relaxed for a week in the hammock of the submissive chief. On the twentieth, he arrived in the lands of Comagre. From there he moved onward, already supplied with food, soldiers, spotters, carriers and guides, arriving at Chucunaque by way of Subcuti. Learning to make the type of raft built by the Indians and following their teaching, Balboa found the patience to wait for the cycle of high water to subside, to cast the rafts into the water at a 45-degree angle needed to make the other shore.
Once on the other shore, they advanced over the lowlands, flooded by the waters of the Chucunaque, which constantly overflows its banks. There were expansive lagoons formed all along the shore, with vegetation that they had never seen before.
The heroic pace of the conquerors, however, was under assault by implacable foes that battered the demigods from across the seas. The enemies were diarrhea, fever, mosquitoes, mange, ticks and insects of the jungle, the same things that attacked Felipe González centuries later on his visit to Panama. They struggled with the closed jungle, mysterious, indomitable; the permanent torrential downpours; damp, rotting clothing; the choking cough of musty heat; mud; poisonous vines. Nevertheless, the obsession with the road to the New World, toward the Empire of the Sun, drew Balboa on like a being possessed, hypnotized, pushing his soldiers on like a seer.
They entered into another area of unknown natives, who attacked the decimated caravan, burdened by the relentless downpours of September, the nights at candlelight awaiting a surprise attack by the Indians or wild animals, and the floods cascading down from the mountains.
Finally they reached the peaceful waters of the River Sabana, where Chief Quarequa and his indomitable warriors awaited them. Many Indians fell in the battle that followed, but Balboa’s men finally subjugated the chief and his tribe. There on the River Sabana, which overflows its banks to nourish the mangroves, the poet Jose Santos Chocano was inspired to write this verse:
. . . A horse came first
Into the torrid mangroves
when Balboa’s throng rode in
awakening the sleepy solitude,
hinting beyond at
the Pacific Ocean, as
blasts of air brought the salty
spray to their senses.
They camped on the river shore. Before the sun emerged over the blackness of the breaking dawn, Balboa, like an Olympian god, his eyes rolling with anticipation, shouted, “Up and onward.”
As the hour approached noon, they came to the foot of the Arracuyala mountains and prepared for the ascent. It was a tortuous advance before they came to the highest plateau, where they rested as they contemplated the way upward. Balboa advanced with his men, lances pointed toward the peak. The conquerors were approaching the highest summit of Guayabito; from there, looking down upon the New World from a point measured as 100,200 paces by Fonseca the mapmaker, one could see a calm, utterly peaceful bay shaped like a horseshoe, glimmering in the midday sun.
The human eye was lost on the boundless surface of its immensity, sparkling with every possible shade of blue. That was the view to the south-southeast. These were the mighty salt waters whose currents would carry them to the Empire of Gold.
It was the South Sea. Spellbound, Balboa ordered his troops to ascend, and all of them, before the sight of the brilliant, silent sea, shouted, crossed themselves, fell to their knees, kissing the earth and raising their prayers to God for having led them to this happy end to their journey.
The ship’s log registers the day as September 25, 1513, from the hill of Guayabito, Sabana plains; there, eighty soldiers of the Spanish crown, with an unknown quantity of Indians under the visionary command of Captain Vasco Nunez de Balboa, having come from the Atlantic and crossed the isthmus, discovered a new ocean, the Pacific. They had traced a route that 390 years later, in 1903, would become the crossroads of a nation.
Balboa was only the first of many conquerors. The Americans occupied Panama fourteen times over more than one hundred years, with many of the same kinds of extrajudicial proceedings and extensions beyond the limits of diplomatic and international law that characterized the 1989 invasion.
On June 22, 1856, for example, an event took place that became known as the Watermelon Incident, a great riot in the capital that left dozens killed and more than fifty wounded. It all began as the result of a dispute between an American and a Panamanian fruit vendor on the street. It was the first case in which a series of events led to diplomatic, military and economic reprisals by the United States. The United States sent a naval force to the isthmus, which anchored offshore while U.S. officials tried to pressure Panama (then known as New Granada) to admit that it was the only party responsible for the chain of events that led to the riot. On September 19,160 sailors landed in the capital, seizing control of the railroad station for three days before leaving. Not giving up, the United States then sought to force the government to turn over sovereignty of all the islands in Panama Bay to U.S. control as compensation for the Watermelon Incident, as well as all control of the Panama Railroad Company. In the end, the United States did in fact oblige the government of New Granada to pay compensation for the incident.
There were other incidents in 1860, 1865, 1868 and 1873, all involving U.S. imposition of its naval forces on the isthmus. On September 27, 1860, the United States invaded Panamanian territory and interfered in its affairs. The event was the result of a public disturbance, after a domestic political demonstration. U.S. troops under the control of Commodore Porter came onshore from the USS St. Mary and occupied Panama City for eleven days.
On March 9, 1865, there was another case of U.S. intervention following a political uprising against the government of New Granada staged by Gil Colunge, a Panamanian patriot; U.S. marines, this time under the command of Captain Middleton, again disembarked from the same vessel and occupied the capital. As a result of that incident, Panamanians memorialized the saying, “I will not sell out my country.” On April 7, 1868, U.S. marines disembarked once more, occupying Colón for four days. On September 24, 1873, marines occupied Panama City until October 6; the United States said that U.S. interests had to be protected on the isthmus, after supposed threats by a series of domestic political disturbances.
On January 18, 1885, the United States sent an invasionary force to Colón, commanded by Captain Lewis Clark. The United States had been asked to intervene by General Ramon Santo Domingo Vila, president of the federal state of Panama. His aim was to suppress a separatist movement opposed to the Colombian dictatorial government of Rafael Nunez. In the course of putting down the uprising, U.S. authorities hanged a rebel leader, General Pedro Preston Colón.
On April 15 of the same year, U.S. forces from the USS Acapulco seized control of the Panama railroad from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Later the same month, the U.S. consul in Panama called for a military occupation of Panama to deal with rebel uprisings.
And then in 1900, there was another war and another invasion, with an interesting sidelight. It was known as the Thousand Day War and the Panamanian military leader was one General Manuel Antonio Noriega, my ancestor and the man after whom I am named. In the course of the war, the United States again took control of the railway line. In September 1902, U.S. forces led by Admiral Silas Casey invaded and occupied the ports of Panama and Colón for two months. There were a series of other actions, all leading up to the original Panama Canal Treaty. On May 15, 1903, U.S. forces from the USS Wisconsin seized and killed General Victoriano Lorenzo, leader of the popular militias for Panamanian independence. It was an attempt to eliminate a leader considered by the United States to be an obstructionist to their expansionist goals. On November 2, 1903, U.S. forces landed in Colón in a surprise raid designed by the administration of Theodore Roosevelt to supplant Colombian authority in Panama with an independent state. Behind the scenes was a Frenchman named Philippe Bunau-Varilla, who decided Panama would be an independent state without so much as waiting for a reaction from the parties really involved, Colombia and Panama. Panamanian independence was declared on November 3, separating it from Colombia. Panama had been part of Colombia ever since its independence from Spain following the War of Ayacucho, led by Simón Bolívar in 1824. Bunau-Varilla signed the treaty on behalf of Panama, although he was not Panamanian, along with William Nelson Cromwell, an American lobbyist working on the canal project. It was an early case of Panama’s oligarchy submitting to U.S. interests to further their own economic interests. Independence came without so much as contacting Colombian authorities and by disregarding the 1846 Cipriano-Bidlack Treaty with Colombia, in which the United States guaranteed the “perfect neutrality” of the isthmus along with Colombian sovereignty.
On November 5, the USS Dixie arrived at Colón to reinforce the USS Nashville, which had been on station to protect the separatist state. Thus, the United States, via an invasion and occupation, enforced de facto Panamanian independence from Colombia. On November 18, the new de facto state was given its first president, Manuel Amador Guerrero, with the full support of the Americans. At the same time, the Hay-Bunau-Varilla treaty was signed, legalizing U.S. military intervention in the isthmus and placing the sovereignty of the Panamanian republic under its virtual control. On December 2, 1903, a provisional Panamanian government junta ratified the treaty, another act of U.S. intervention. Ratification of the treaty meant the virtual sale for posterity of the isthmus to U.S. control. On January 15, 1904 a constitutional convention created the first law of the new republic: the right and privilege of the United States to intervene militarily in Panama.
From November 14 to 18, 1904, the United States plotted against the commander of Panama’s army, General Esteban Huerta, who sought to overthrow President Amador Guerrero and supplant U.S. forces. Guerrero became the scapegoat in a policy developed by the United States to convince the Panamanian oligarchy that there was no need for a homegrown army, that the Panamanian military was inherently corrupt and that they would be a permanent threat to civilian politics. Complying with U.S. demands, the Panamanian government signed a proclamation to disband the army.
Throughout the twentieth century, the United States has seen Panama as so strategically important that it never worried about or considered Panamanian sovereignty in establishing its political goals.
Noriega, Manuel Antonio, and Peter Eisner. America’s Prisoner: The Memoirs of Manuel Noriega. Random House (NY), 1997.
