Somewhere, buried in a pile of various albums my family keeps lies a superficially unremarkable CD one would not think too different from the musical recordings that surround it. It has, though, one unique property, which is that it records not music, but a human voice, and one very particular human voice. This scratchy tape recording, transferred to disc many years ago now, contains the recollections of a now deceased relative whose acquaintance I never had the privilege of making. Amidst the various tales and anecdotes of other relations who have since gone on to their rewards, she recounts a family story about the fall of Puerto Rico to American forces in 1898. In the story as I remember it, a Spanish official struck a clock face with his sword at the exact moment his city fell to US troops. This one branch of my family, perhaps with this Spanish official, abruptly came under the governance of an entirely different state. My great-great grandfather, who had previously served the Spanish government, had to swear allegiance and enter into the service of a new one.
Like the island’s many other residents, this branch of my family became Americans by conquest. Puerto Ricans, unlike the many immigrants who have made homes for themselves in the mainland United States, never really got to ask if they wanted to be Americans. The governments of the United States and Spain, rather, made that choice for them. For a nation conceived in liberty, the United States has from time to time, like so many of the world’s empires, annexed the territory of neighboring powers when it seems to fit its interests. Had Puerto Rico been master of her own destiny in 1898, perhaps she could have joined with the United States voluntarily. But she was not, she has been one of this country’s outlying, non-sovereign outposts for over a century now.
As Americans, Puerto Rico presents us with an awkward case. For many years, the island has been governed as a commonwealth under United States law; it has its own territorial government, but it lacks the sovereignty of the fifty states. Many Puerto Ricans are happy with this arrangement, a small number have historically favored independence, and a large number favor statehood. Figuring out exactly what the island’s resident want is confusing because of the way previous referendums have been worded, and have not always clearly explained what a proposed change in status would mean for the island. As Puerto Ricans again go to the polls this year to voice their preference for their future, the issue has again come to awareness here on the mainland.
Puerto Rico’s status has become a topic of conversation not just because of the referendum, but because of our own political mess nationwide. Though both major political parties have nominally endorsed eventual statehood for the island for years now, many Democrats view the proposal as an easy way to gain more votes in the Senate with the belief that the island’s voters will consistently favor them. This partisan perspective, unfortunately, has unnecessarily marred the way many mainland Americans view the issue. If many Democrats can be talked into supporting statehood for political reasons, just as many Republicans can be talked out of it. To view this as a partisan issue, though, clouds what is really at stake here.
The question we have to contend with is not simply whether or not Puerto Rico should be a state. Considering whether or not Puerto Rico is truly “part of the United States” comprises only part of the issue. The question is this: are Puerto Ricans Americans, or are they not? If they are, then denying them the same self-government accorded to all of the fifty states requires justification. Puerto Rico is not Guam, the Mariana Islands, the Virgin Islands, or American Samoa, all of which have populations smaller than that of Richmond, Virginia. With a population of over 3 million people, Puerto Rico has more people than Iowa and 19 other states. The island’s fiscal situation should cause great concern. Several American states, however, have defaulted on their obligations in the past, and I have heard of no calls to withdraw statehood from Arkansas (though if put ourselves in that frame of mind, taking a second look at California may not be unwise).
If Puerto Ricans cannot make a claim to American nationhood, then why not? One of the great things about American nationality at its most aspirational is that it does not consider the United States an ethnic polity. We are not a republic of white people, or black people, of European people, or Asian people, but of Americans, and we welcome all those who want to claim for themselves that inheritance of liberty. As Americans, we are not a people who define ourselves, like so many nations of the Bible, by our descent from a common ancestor. It is by common civic ideals that we bind ourselves one to another. If the people of Puerto Rico wish to participate fully in the American project with all of the rights to self-government that entails, I see no reason to deny it to them. US citizens living on US soil should, if they so desire, be able to pursue that life to its fullest.
As things stand now, Puerto Ricans pay American taxes – though not, it should be said, the income tax – and fight and die in American wars. I see nor reason to foist statehood on a people who do not desire it. I do, however, wish the island and its people could have some degree of self-determination. If they do not desire statehood, then so be it. But if they do, those of us who already enjoy its fruits should welcome the island to join the family of American states. Puerto Ricans became Americans at the point of a bayonet in 1898. At a minimum, their country should let them enjoy the benefits should they choose.