Columbus and the "Great Man" of History

Earlier this year, on Indigenous Peoples Day, Florida governor Ron DeSantis issued a characteristically tone-deaf proclamation honoring Christopher Columbus. The proclamation is a transparent exercise in culture warfare designed to score DeSantis some easy points among his right-wing base. At times, each sentence appears calculated to provoke the maximum offense from culturally-progressive liberals such as myself, undoubtedly so that DeSantis can luxuriate in the ensuing outrage. But I have no intention of taking the bait. In fact, I admit to having not read the entire proclamation. DeSantis bores me terribly. But here, for context, is a bitter taste of the proclamation:

"WHEREAS, we must learn from history and continue to discuss Columbus' contributions, discoveries, and experiences rather than revise history, and acknowledge that individuals who seek to defame Columbus and try to expunge the day from our civic calendar do so as part of a mission to portray the United States and Western history in a negative light as they seek to blame our country and its values for all that is evil in the world..." (Suffice to say, it goes on like this.)

And lest there be any doubt about the Governor's cynical motives, it should be noted that DeSantis immediately sent out a fundraising email reassuring his supporters that "while bad-faith, radical actors attempt to expunge this day from history, we will not allow the foundations of America to be erased..." etc. etc. It's typical MAGA fare from a cheap imitation Trump. It doesn't bother me terribly as long as DeSantis keeps his political ambitions confined to Florida, where I can safely ignore him.

But since DeSantis says "we must learn from history," I thought this a good opportunity to remind the reader of a few historical facts about Christopher Columbus and reflect a bit on the "great man theory" of history. (I am indebted to former Florida history teacher Ron Filipkowski for having compiled much of this information on Twitter—I recommend his thread on the subject.)

Columbus is today increasingly seen as an asshole of trans-atlantic proportions, but we forget that he was also a renowned asshole in his own day. It's important to remember this when historians such as William J. Connell caution us against "applying 20th century understandings of morality to the morality of the 15th century," when Columbus' atrocious conduct was very much offensive to the morality of his own time, not just ours.

The most incriminating information we have about Columbus comes from historical documents such as his own diary, the testimony of his own men, and correspondence with his patrons, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella—who eventually had Columbus arrested, hauled back to Spain in chains and stripped of his titles for his "incompetence, tyranny, and brutality" as Governor General of Hispaniola (the modern day Dominican Republic.)

"In reality, [DeSantis'] proclamation is less about Columbus Day and more about rallying his supporters against perceived enemies"

Columbus' maltreatment of the natives probably won't come as a shock to most Americans, desensitized as we are to the genocide of indigenous peoples (I recommend Googling it, however. It's truly horrifying.) But perhaps more shocking to American sensibilities is Columbus' lesser-known mistreatment of his fellow colonists. One Spaniard, for instance, had his nose and ears cut off, was shackled and sold into slavery for the crime of stealing corn. A woman who accused Columbus of "low birth" had her tongue cut out, was stripped naked and paraded around the colony. The horrified Spanish historians who, in 2006, uncovered long-lost documentation of these events described them as "atrocities," and rightfully so.

The veneration of Columbus arose from an outdated conception of history, which was canonized in the 19th century as the "great man theory." According to this conception, world events were shaped by a handful of charismatic and ingenious men throughout history. Today, we understand that historical events are the product of long-term social and economic trends, but this isn't particularly exciting—it's not what you teach in grade school. "In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue" is far easier for children to understand.

This sanitized version of Columbus has become the foundation of a national and ethnic myth, but as Kirien remarks in Patricia Hodgell's book Seeker's Mask, "That which can be destroyed by the truth should be." While I don't think Hodgell intends for us to agree with Kirien, the fact that a national myth can be destroyed by the truth is no doubt distressing to many Americans who hold their elementary school education dear, and who long for the simpler, more innocent days of their youth—more innocent days that never truly existed, not in this century or any other.

Ron DeSantis understands this well. He doesn't have the excuse that Trump does of being a genuine idiot. DeSantis went to Yale and Harvard, for Christ's sake. But he also understands that his supporters—the proverbial "Florida man"—are frightened of change, and he's happy to stoke their anxiety to obtain money and power. In reality, his proclamation is less about Columbus Day and more about rallying his supporters against perceived enemies, the spectral "bad-faith, radical actors" he invokes in his fundraising email.

While it is possible to have a childlike admiration for Columbus, I think it more likely that DeSantis simply has a professional respect for a fellow unscrupulous, power-hungry Governor.