Spanish Officials Research Articles

Colonial al-Andalus: Spain and the Making of Modern Moroccan Culture

Colonial al-Andalus: Spain and the Making of Modern Moroccan Culture

“More Advantageous to Be with Spaniards”: Gunpowder and Creek–Spanish Encounters in Cuba, 1763– 1783

This research investigates Creek Indian and Spanish encounters in Cuba, exploring the ways in which Natives looked beyond the Southeast for access to commodities following the Seven Years’ War. It uses gunpowder as a lens to examine how ongoing Creek–Spanish relations shaped gender dynamics, personal relationships, local-level politics, and cultural structures within the Confederacy while simultaneously impacting Spanish geopolitics in the Atlantic World. This research seeks to better understand how Creek efforts to acquire gunpowder through formal processes of encounter and exchange in Cuba benefited both the aims of Indigenous leaders and Spanish officials during an era of change for both cultures.

Justice in a New World: Negotiating Legal Intelligibility in British, Iberian, and Indigenous America

Justice in a New World: Negotiating Legal Intelligibility in British, Iberian, and Indigenous America

Don Melchor Carlos Inca, el inca mestizo: Los Carlos Inca en el siglo XVII de la sociedad cusqueña

En 1539, don Cristóbal Paullo, uno de los hijos del inca Huayna Cápac, fue nombrado «inca» como parte de una estrategia política de los españoles. Desde entonces tuvo acceso a encomiendas de indios. Don Cristóbal se casó con doña Catalina Tocto Oxica y tuvieron dos hijos: don Carlos Inquill Topa y don Felipe Inquill Topa. Don Carlos Inquil Topa se casó con doña María Esquivel Amarilla y tuvieron un solo hijo llamado Melchor Carlos Inca. El nacimiento de Melchor fue visto por la población nativa como un gran acontecimiento pues había nacido un «rey inca», el cual incluso llegó a ser temido por los funcionarios españoles coloniales al saber que se referían a él como «Cápac Inca». Don Melchor Carlos Inca se identificaba como nieto de don Cristóbal Paullo Inca y bisnieto del inca Huayna Cápac. Se convirtió en un personaje importante dentro de la sociedad virreinal cusqueña. Don Melchor fue bautizado y se casó con doña Leonor Arias Carrasco, hija del conquistador Pedro Alonso Carrasco, ambos eventos fueron significativos para la sociedad cusqueña. La encomienda de Pichigua, de propiedad de don Melchor, era de mucha importancia económica y social, por ello para mantener esta encomienda y sus actividades sociales/políticas, se vio obligado a vender e hipotecar por vía de censo parte de su patrimonio. En 1599, el virrey Luis de Velasco dio una comisión al capitán Antonio Pereira (regidor perpetuo) para averiguar la ascendencia y los servicios de los ancestros de don Melchor. En 1603, don Melchor viajó a España para reclamar sus privilegios y logró su inclusión como Caballero de la Orden de Santiago. La descendencia de Cristóbal Paullo Inca logró establecer y constituir la capilla de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe en el convento e iglesia de San Francisco, donde tuvieron el honor de tener una bóveda funeraria, la cual fue cuidada y mantenida por sus descendientes hasta el siglo XVII.

Public–private partnerships: procedural over results-driven accountability

The article examines to what extent Dutch and Spanish officials make trade-offs between process and result accountability during the design, management and adaptation of contracts for public–private partnerships. The countries’ distinct administrative traditions (legalistic versus managerial-oriented, respectively) are expected to be influential. Analysing contracts, policy documents and interviews with 89 Dutch and Spanish project members, the article shows that Dutch administrators focus on outcome accountability, following the tenets of relational governance, whereas Spanish officials opt for process accountability in line with the contractual governance framework in non-clinical services, and for result accountability for clinical services in hospitals. Points for practitioners • Procedural and results-based accountability are not necessarily alternatives. High legalistic countries may emphasize process accountability but results-based accountability is needed to realize the potential from the private-sector operator delivering public services. • Long-term contracts require that the procurer first sets the results to be achieved and then work out the more suitable accountability mechanisms. • Results-based accountability requires competencies that are not easily found in the public sector of legalistic countries and this is key for properly giving account of the contract.

Indigenous Diplomacy and Spanish Mediation in the Lower Colorado–Gila River Region, 1771–1783

Abstract Drawing on expeditionary diaries, official correspondence, Indigenous-authored petitions, and incident reports, this article argues that between 1771 and 1783, the Quechán and “Maricopa” alliance networks controlling the Lower Colorado and Gila Rivers compelled Spanish officials to seek diplomatic entry points into a riverine “native ground.” Contemporary studies of late Bourbon Indian policy foreground colonial officials’ negotiations and treaty making with the Native populations that dominated northern New Spain. However, this scholarship has never systematically engaged with Spanish mediation between Indigenous peoples. As this article demonstrates, missionaries and soldiers brokered Indigenous peace agreements to protect overland communication between Sonora and Alta California and stake out a role for the empire in the river region. In turn, Native peoples recruited Spanish mediation to ameliorate the negative effects of the colonial captive trade. Across the eighteenth century, the river peoples had accessed Spanish trade networks by raiding their rivals to furnish colonists with captive labor. Captive raiding exacerbated intra-Native competition and profoundly disrupted daily life. The river peoples consequently used Spanish peace brokering to renegotiate regional hierarchies and stabilize their communities while retaining access to colonial markets. Centering this history of violence and mediation reorients the literature in two important ways. First, it highlights Native geopolitical dominance on the Colorado and Gila Rivers, which endured until the mid-nineteenth century. Second, it reveals that Indigenous mediation constituted one dimension of late Bourbon Indian policy on “native ground.” Future studies may uncover similar practices across the Spanish Empire.

Mestisaje (miscegenation) and Labor: Rethinking free Afromexicans and the colonial labor market in the Age of Mercantilism

From an early stage, the economic exploitation of free African descendants preoccupied Spanish officials in the American colonies. Miscegenation complicated the organization of the colonial workforce by rendering any intention to generate a labor system based on a priori divisions between ethnic groups impossible. By analyzing labor proposals regarding African descendants in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Mexico—which had one of the largest populations of free Blacks in the Americas—this article investigates how Spaniards responded to the emergence of new types of peoples who were the unintended consequence of early European colonialism. I further claim that the attempt to implement labor policies toward colonial populations deemed "undesirable" should be understood within the desire of the early modern state to expand its jurisdiction through the development of new conceptualizations of population and wealth.

Los gobernadores de plazas y la construcción de lugares de poder imperial en los Países Bajos españoles en la época de Felipe II y de los Archiduques

El texto explora la construcción de lugares de poder regio a traves los gobernadores de plazas en los Países Bajos españoles en la época de Felipe II y de los Archiduques. La Monarquía Hispánica logró crear un mecanismo complejo de gestión política de sus plazas confiandolas a oficiales españoles como a nobles locales, ambos eficaces para garantizar una dominación que movilizara apoyo social y la lealtad al lejano rey. Los españoles supieron adaptarse al mundo político local y los naturales no flaquearon en su fidelidad a los Habsburgo. Entre ellos sí comenzaba a crearse una cultura de servicio y de gobierno directo de un soberano ausente; una vía a la promoción que se adaptaba a las realidades de patronazgo y clientela y a la capacidad de representación del territorio pero que primaba la capacidad de integración y de comprensión de la cultura política municipal.

Between modernization and identity: colonial social housing as a specific theoretico-practical corpus of colonial architecture – the case of Tetouan (Morocco, 1912–1956)

ABSTRACTFrom the beginning of Spain's occupation of northern Morocco (1912–1956), the urban planning of the colonial government gave rise to an urban periphery of slums and squatter settlements outside the planned city. Aware of its responsibility, the Spanish colonial government developed a social housing policy which aimed to ensure decent housing for all families, while acting as propaganda that symbolized the modernization promoted by the colonial power. The colonial housing was reserved for Spanish and Moroccan officials and for families unable to access decent housing within the private system. In the case of Spain, technically and financially limited as a colonial power, this action cannot be regarded as a comprehensive state policy responding to all real social needs. Nevertheless, it did constitute a major theoretical and practical advancement in thinking about the modernization of Moroccan housing, and a corpus of the colonial architecture in and of itself. This was a unique development when compared with that of other colonies, particularly French Morocco, with its noticeably smaller and less rational development. In order to analyse the colonial social housing in northern Morocco, the case chosen is that of Tetouan, the political and economic capital.

Depredation and Deceit: The Making of the Jicarilla and Ute Wars in New Mexico

Gregory F. Michno's book fills an important historiographical gap in New Mexico's history regarding Native American tribes and related Indian policies during New Mexico’s early Anglo-American territorial period (1848-1912). Long before that time, Spanish colonial (1598-1821) and Mexican territorial (1821-1848) officials had enforced a dual Indian policy, one for mountain and plains tribes, another for Indian pueblos. Fearing a deal gone wrong in which New Mexico could be overrun by numerous plains or mountain tribes, Spanish officials and, later, Mexican officials in New Mexico, banned trade with such tribes as the Utes, Apache and Comanche, with the exception of the Pueblo Indians, within the region.

We Dream Together: Dominican Independence, Haiti, and the Fight for Caribbean Freedom by Anne Eller

Reviewed by: We Dream Together: Dominican Independence, Haiti, and the Fight for Caribbean Freedom by Anne Eller Yveline Alexis We Dream Together: Dominican Independence, Haiti, and the Fight for Caribbean Freedom. By Anne Eller. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2016. ISBN 978-0-8223-6237-1. 400 pp. $27.95 paper, $104.95 hardcover. Anne Eller's book We Dream Together: Dominican Independence, Haiti, and the Fight for Caribbean Freedom is a welcome addition to recent academic work in Dominican and Caribbean studies. Her work fits beautifully with April Mayes's book The Mulatto Republic: Class, Race, and Dominican National Identity (University Press of Florida, 2015). Both texts focus on Dominican society using Dominican archives and Dominican people to tell multicultural and multilayered stories. Eller's title announces the lens that focuses the text: it is a work about Dominican independence movements that involved the neighboring nation and citizens of Haiti. Chronologically, the book spans the nineteenth century, centering on how nations in the Americas fought for and defended Caribbean freedom. Eller meticulously researches Spain's role as a colonizer as well as the United States' active fascination with and actions toward the Dominican Republic and Haiti. Additionally, the reader learns about transnational circuits in the Caribbean whereby individuals from Curaçao, Venezuela, St. Thomas, Puerto Rico, Cuba, and New York could pass through and/or set up residency in the Dominican Republic. Using archives from the Dominican Republic, Spain, Cuba, Haiti, and the United States, Eller offers key insights that constitute an eleven-chapter text, including the introduction and epilogue. My review focuses on three aspects of this book: its research methodology, its contributions to studies of race, and its emphasis on Haitian and Dominican unity. First, Dr. Eller's research efforts constitute a teaching tool for students. Her work elucidates the process of writing a book that relies on multiple archives, multilingual texts, and numerous individuals. The diversity of sources—ranging from Haitian poetry to a Cantonese letter to a tombstone with a crucial family name—emphasizes the author's efforts to find and include a range of voices and adds to the richness of this work. It is a must-read for graduate students and scholars interested in Dominican and Caribbean studies, and it would also work well with undergraduate students who are given the proper context and training. Second, Dr. Eller's work adds to our understanding of race and racism in the Americas. Most of us are familiar with US American and [End Page 144] Spanish rulers' lies about Haiti's 1804 independence being an example of "Black barbarity" against whites. Some of us are also cognizant of the white immigration projects in the Caribbean to counter the African and/or Black presence. Eller's work examines how racist discourse and actions played out in the Dominican Republic. She demonstrates how some Dominican elites promoted the narrative of a race war that elevated whiteness and dehumanized Blackness within the nation. Simultaneously, she explores how that narrative existed alongside the reality that "the republic's first long-ruling presidents were wealthy men of color" (31). The racism of foreigners further complicated the attempt by some Dominicans to discriminate against Black and Brown people, despite the fact that they themselves were Black and Brown. Spanish officials proposed to the nation's ruler, Pedro Santana—who was a man of color—that his nation should embrace a "large scale white immigration" to the Dominican Republic for the "colony's progress" (107). Eller deftly explores the layers of race relations and racial discourses within the Dominican Republic. Third, We Dream Together helps prove that Dominicans and Haitians united in the nineteenth century. Often the public focuses on three moments in Dominican and Haitian relations that fostered racial antagonism: the so-called Haitian occupation of the Dominican Republic, 1822–1844; Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo's racist massacre of Haitians and darker-skinned Dominicans in 1937; and more recently, the Dominican Supreme Court's decision to remove Haitians and Dominicans of Haitian descent from the nation. Activists like Solange (Sonia) Pierre as well as the activists, scholars, and artists who are part of Transnational Hispaniola, a group seeking to transform dominant...

Experiencing Empire: Power, People, and Revolution in Early America ed. by Patrick Griffin

Reviewed by: Experiencing Empire: Power, People, and Revolution in Early Americaed. by Patrick Griffin Cameron B. Strang Experiencing Empire: Power, People, and Revolution in Early America. Edited by Patrick Griffin. Early American Histories. (Charlottesville and London: University of Virginia Press, 2017. Pp. [x], 269. $39.50, ISBN 978-0-8139-3988-9.) Experiencing Empire: Power, People, and Revolution in Early Americaclearly fulfills its two main purposes: adding to a growing body of work that explores continuities across the Revolutionary era and honoring the career of historian T. H. Breen. Like Breen's own scholarship (which is summarized in an afterword by Joyce E. Chaplin), the chapters range from the early colonial era to the decades after independence. These essays analyze "[t]he relationship between sovereignty—the stuff of empire—and how people manage it" in colonial America, Britain, the French Atlantic, and the imperial United States (p. 11). As Patrick Griffin discusses in his introduction, the Revolutionary era has usually been broken into two periods, each with its own set of historiographical debates. On the one hand, the thirteen years between 1763 and 1776 have generated countless efforts to understand how colonists' pride in being British at the end of the Seven Years' War could have so quickly morphed into a new American identity. The eleven years between 1776 and 1787, on the other hand, have inspired historians to regard 1787 as a "litmus test" for determining the extent to which the Constitution realized the Revolution's most radical aspects (p. 3). Instead of seeing 1776 as either an end or a beginning, Griffin suggests approaching the years between 1763 and 1787 as "the 'imperial-revolutionary' moment," a period when some colonists came to believe that British imperialism had failed and, by fighting to replace British rule with a minimal government, brought about "a near-anarchic state" that only stabilized after the Constitution ordered the United States into a new empire (pp. 19, 20). In other words, empire-imposed order bookended social revolution. Breen offers his own thoughts about "What time was the American Revolution?" in the conclusion (p. 233). More emphatically than Griffin, Breen situates the years between 1760 and 1773 "as a general crisis of imperial rule throughout the Atlantic World" (p. 234). He contends that agitation in Boston was pretty typical of how imperial subjects protested unfair treatment, but Parliament's overreaction to the Tea Party (and not the party itself) pushed this quotidian kind of resistance into a more general mobilization. Breen also posits that the experience of war—not ideology—led many white men to the revolutionary conclusion that they were each other's equals; moreover, he argues that most Americans were brightly optimistic during the years before [End Page 976]the Constitution, despite historians' penchant for taking "elite fears of looming anarchy" at face value (p. 242). Far from undermining the volume as a whole, the subtle but important differences in how Griffin and Breen reenvision Revolutionary time ensure that this collection can encourage further debate rather than attempt to impose definitive answers, a worthy achievement for any volume on something as thoroughly studied as the Revolution. The chapters themselves cover a wide array of subjects, including political economy, military fortifications, and (in Seth Cotlar's fascinating essay on antiquarian John Fanning Watson) nostalgia. Three chapters may be of particular interest to readers of this journal. Owen Stanwood examines attempts to establish wineries in the South from sixteenth-century Florida to eighteenth-century Virginia. Imperial visionaries and Huguenot experts persisted in experimenting with wine because it seemed to offer a path toward a "more virtuous empire" (p. 51). Viniculture, which required German and French laborers, would make slavery less central to colonial society and even ease tensions between colonists and British officials by creating ample work for white colonists as producers of raw materials and, therefore, ensuring that they ceased undermining mercantilism by striving to become manufacturers. Patricia Cleary explores allegations of sexual misconduct against white women in colonial St. Louis. French and Spanish officials cataloged white women's sexual transgressions, especially adultery, but were surprisingly tolerant of these scandals. Cleary argues that this benign neglect stemmed from a mixture of officials...

Pirates, Planting, and the Rights of Mankind in Seventeenth-Century Tortuga

Pirates, Planting, and the Rights of Mankind in Seventeenth-Century Tortuga Casey Schmitt In the aftermath of the Spanish invasion of Tortuga in 1653, a recently widowed Frenchwoman attempted to piece her life back together.1 For the crime of piracy, Spanish forces had executed her husband and many of the other former inhabitants from the small island located off of the northwest coast of Hispaniola. Now destitute, she petitioned the Spanish governor of Hispaniola, Juan Francisco de Montemayor y Córdoba de Cuenca, for the restitution of her deceased husband's goods. For his part, Montemayor y Cuenca argued that since the Frenchwoman's husband was executed as a pirate, she had no claim to the goods seized by Spanish officials upon his death. In the years prior to the Spanish invasion of Tortuga, however, the Frenchwoman and her husband understood themselves as settlers on an island that had more than two hundred permanent inhabitants, nearly twenty plantations scattered along the coast, and one sugar mill worked by enslaved Africans, Indians, and indentured Europeans.2 Unfortunately for the Spanish governor, this "wife of one of those pirates," exploited political tensions on Hispaniola and appealed to Montemayor y Cuenca's political rivals, who used the petition in an attempt to slander the governor. As a result of political pressure, Montemayor y Cuenca eventually decided in favor of the Frenchwoman and ordered the return of her husband's goods, but not before he argued in writing that the former inhabitants of Tortuga were pirates and suggested the legality of their permanent enslavement as individuals outside of the jus commune, or common law of mankind.3 The case of the French widow and Spanish governor illuminates broader issues surrounding settlement, imperialism, and unfree labor in Caribbean spaces on the edges of European control. Early Tortugans did, in fact, engage in the widespread raiding of Spanish ships and coastal plantations. However, often the men who took to sea used piracy in order to acquire the tools and coerced laborers that they needed to establish their own plantations on Tortuga. This practice of raiding in order to plant blurs the historiographic boundaries normally drawn between colonists and pirates, since many of these men moved between both professions as their circumstances dictated.4 Nor did early Tortugans eschew metropolitan oversight. Leaders on Tortuga repeatedly sought official recognition, first from the Providence Island Company and, when a Spanish attack threw Company control of the island into disarray, from the French crown. Early Tortuga represents an alternative mode of [End Page 584] colonial development in the West Indies, one in which individuals without state support established plantations and created systems of coerced labor and trade before being folded into larger imperial projects. And, although the colony failed to develop on the model of Barbados or Martinique, early Tortuga recasts historical understandings of the relationship between piracy and planting in the Caribbean. While early Tortugans blended plantation production and piracy in order to develop a colony, Spanish officials in the region used accusations of piracy in order to lay claim to the labor of prisoners captured during periodic raids on the island. As European legal theorists grappled with the legal contours of transatlantic slavery, some argued that individuals who engaged in piracy fell outside the bonds of natural law and could, therefore, be enslaved. By the 1650s, Montemayor y Cuenca deployed these very arguments to defend his seizure of property on Tortuga and the treatment of prisoners taken off the island. For their part, some of the English and French settlers on the island viewed acts of piracy against the Spanish as reprisals for the violent treatment of non-Hispanic mariners caught by Spanish patrols. The legal arguments presented by both sides illuminate the entangled nature of piracy, planting, labor coercion, and sovereignty in the early seventeenth-century Caribbean. ________ Some of the individuals accused of piracy by Montemayor y Cuenca understood maritime raiding as a stage in the development of plantations or an ancillary activity to planting staple crops. Such was the case for Paul Aubert, who left Normandy for the Caribbean in the early 1630s. As a young man, Aubert likely signed a labor contract obliging...

Fighting Napoleon in Totonicapan

Fighting Napoleon in Totonicapan1 Timothy HawkinsiD Introduction Following the collapse of the Spanish monarchy in 1808 the Kingdom of Guatemala faced a political challenge without precedent in its history. Perhaps surprisingly, considering the unprecedented nature and consequences of Napoleon's intervention into Spanish politics, the colonial system survived the shock of the Bayonne coup that brought down the Bourbons. On the far side of the Atlantic, a captain general and audiencia remained in place to sustain the sovereignty of the deposed Fernando VII across the length of the Central American isthmus. At the provincial level, a secondary tier of crown-appointed governors personified Spanish authority over fifteen distinct and largely autonomous jurisdictions. Finally, at the local level a variety of authorities continued to oversee the colonial population within both municipal and district boundaries as they had done for the past three centuries. Yet, after 1808 this traditional political framework had to adapt quickly to a new threat. In short order some of the most minor figures in the colonial bureaucracy found themselves a part of the first line of defenses designed to protect the Spanish possessions from Napoleon. By 1810 a rational fear of the threat posed by the French emperor had combined with rumor, gossip, propaganda, and genuine intelligence to convince senior Spanish officials that the danger of a French invasion of the colonies was both legitimate and imminent. Ultimately, local officials there became critical links in what would become a long, rapidly evolving, and occasionally awkward administrative chain stretching from Spain to the Americas, for these bureaucrats were expected to block an anticipated first-wave assault on the Spanish colonies by French emissaries, spies, and provocateurs. While direct communication between loyalist Spain and the Americas fanned some of these concerns, by 1810 the person most responsible for defining and shaping the colonial response to Napoleon was the Spanish ambassador to the United States, Luís de Onís. This article will assess the impact of the Onís warnings on Spanish America by tracing them through the Spanish colonial bureaucracy. Here, the alcaldía mayor of Totonicapán, a province in the western highlands of the Kingdom of Guatemala, will serve as a case study of the nature of the administrative responses during the imperial crisis. [End Page 490] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Representation of the Alcaldía Mayor of Totonicapán, ca. 1810. The Setting At the dawn of the nineteenth century, the one-million inhabitants of the Kingdom of Guatemala found themselves living in the backwaters of the Spanish empire.2 While technically subordinate to the viceregal authorities in Mexico City, the isthmus remained largely self-governing during the colonial period. At the same time, a complicated internal geography also diluted the effectiveness of those appointed to lead the bureaucracy from Guatemala City. Most of the kingdom's settlements evolved in relative isolation from each other, and these "sovereign villages" tended to concentrate power at the local level.3 Even the imperial drive toward political centralization that dominated the Bourbon Reforms of the late eighteenth century produced more political fragmentation—or at least confusion—than had heretofore existed in the colony. As a result, it is somewhat misleading to use the term reino (kingdom) of Guatemala as it implies a degree of political uniformity that simply did not exist at the time. Such as it was, kingdom-wide authority was vested in two supreme institutions: the captaincy general and the audiencia.4 At an administrative level, the colony was subdivided into multiple jurisdictions. The political, economic, and demographic heartland, which included the territory [End Page 491] that later coalesced into the nation of Guatemala, embraced eight alcaldías mayores and two corregimientos, while four intendencias (Ciudad Real, Comayagua, Nicaragua, and San Salvador) and one gobierno militar (Costa Rica) made up the rest of the kingdom.5 Each of these administrative units preserved significant regional autonomy from Guatemala City and retained its own network of provincial and local authorities. The broad geographic, socio-economic, and political features of late-colonial Central America were all represented to an extreme degree within the alcaldía mayor of Totonicapán.6 At the...

The Miguel map revisited

The Miguel map was drawn by a native of Kansas in 1602 at the behest of Spanish officials in Mexico City. The map shows native settlements, rivers, trails, and two salt marshes in the Southern Plains and a spot from which gold was obtained. Previous attempts to decipher the map have not used all of the ancillary documents and have depended on early translations with errors of both transcription and translation. Information from eyewitness accounts from the 1601 Oñate expedition show that the place called Etzanoa and the great settlement is located at Arkansas City, Kansas. The map also shows the location of other ancestral Wichita communities and camps of the nomadic Escanxaque. Finally, it shows a place labeled Encuche, where gold was smelted, the location of which turns out to be in South America.

Come to Spain! America in Spanish tourism policy (1911–1954)

ABSTRACTThe image of an America teeming with wealth was popular in Europe during the twentieth-century and fascination with American millionaires helped define relations between the continents. Spain was not immune, and for 50 years tourism administrators committed themselves to the task of attracting American visitors, convinced that they would be fundamental to the development of national tourism. Officially, the starting point of this development project was the personal relationship between the Hispanophile millionaire Archer Huntington and the Spanish tourism commissionaire Benigno de la Vega-Inclán in the 1910s, but the Ibero-American exposition of 1929 was the most strategic, as well as the greatest, tourist event of the period. During the 1950s, Spanish policy continued to view American tourists and their currency as essential. This changed at the end of that decade when Spanish officials realised that interest in Spain as a tourist-destination not only came from other sources, but was also linked to Northern European countries and to the new middle classes of the post-war era.

"Tendiendo un lazo para esclavizarlos": evangelización en la provincia del Darién en el siglo XVIII

La evangelización en las Indias ejemplificado en el establecimiento de misiones de frontera, intentó transformar a sus habitantes “bárbaros” en vasallos fieles a la Corona. En este artículo se analiza la complejidad de la presencia misional en el Darién y las relaciones que se tejieron entre los cunas y los funcionarios españoles, sobre todo misioneros, militares y hacendados. Relaciones enmarcadas en los maltratos hacia los cunas, los temores de los pobladores a una rebelión indígena y la necesidad de la permanencia española en el territorio darienita, tan importante para la geopolítica trasatlántica del siglo XVIII.

Review: Contesting the Borderlands: Interviews on the Early Southwest by Deborah Lawrence and Jon Lawrence

Book Review| February 01 2017 Review: Contesting the Borderlands: Interviews on the Early Southwest by Deborah Lawrence and Jon Lawrence Contesting the Borderlands: Interviews on the Early Southwest. By Deborah Lawrence and Jon Lawrence. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2016. 280 pp. $24.95 paper). Raphael Folsom Raphael Folsom Professor Folsom is a scholar of colonial Latin America, focusing on native peoples and imperial borderlands in New Spain. His first book, The Yaquis & The Empire: Violence, Spanish Imperial Power, and Native Resilience in Colonial Mexico (Yale University Press, 2014), deals with the history of one of Mexico’s most famous native peoples and their negotiations with Jesuit missionaries, Spanish officials, and their indigenous neighbors in colonial Sonora. Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar Southern California Quarterly (2017) 99 (1): 92–94. https://doi.org/10.1525/scq.2017.99.1.92 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Tools Icon Tools Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Raphael Folsom; Review: Contesting the Borderlands: Interviews on the Early Southwest by Deborah Lawrence and Jon Lawrence. Southern California Quarterly 1 February 2017; 99 (1): 92–94. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/scq.2017.99.1.92 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentSouthern California Quarterly Search This content is only available via PDF. © 2017 by The Historical Society of Southern California2017 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.

АДАПТАЦИОННЫЕ ПРОБЛЕМЫ РЕПАТРИАЦИИ «СОВЕТСКИХ ИСПАНЦЕВ» (1956 Г. – Н.В.)

The article is dedicated to the repatriation problems of Spanish emigration representatives who found themselves in the USSR during and after the Civil war (1936-1939) that had done with the Second Republic defeat. The paper addresses the outstanding features of the adaptational processes primarily related with economic and legal aspects of the “soviet Spaniards” repatriation. The author sees fit to mark among them the problems of citizenship, housing law, employment and pension provision in view of repatriates age at different stages of their return to Spain. This paper concentrates not only on concrete actions realized by national government and local authorities but also on projects came from the repatriates themselves, many of which were really implemented by Spanish officials. Also left is to the reader a short structural composition of the Spanish emigration to the USSR and periodization of repatriation process with an indication of every stage distinctive features.

The Manila Synod of 1582: The Draft of Its Handbook for Confessors by Paul Arvisu Dumol

Reviewed by: The Manila Synod of 1582: The Draft of Its Handbook for Confessors by Paul Arvisu Dumol Msgr. Sabino A. Vengco Jr. Paul Arvisu Dumol, Trans. The Manila Synod of 1582: The Draft of Its Handbook for Confessors Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 2014. 162 pages. Paul Arvisu Dumol's publication of his translation of the two drafts of what was purportedly to be a handbook for the use of confessors in late–sixteenth-century Philippines is a remarkable work that will benefit not only historians and theologians but also ultimately and hopefully the public that is interested to gain a deeper understanding of the development of the Filipino people under Spanish rule and care. The two manuscripts, the Suma de Una Junta kept in the Dominican archives in Manila and the Junta y Congregación found in the Jesuit archives in Rome, both give a summary, varying in length and style, of the 1582 Synod of Manila's acta or synodal acts and decrees pertaining to matters of justice and compiled explicitly in accordance with the synod's own purpose for the guidance of confessors in solving moral cases and abuses in the Philippines. It was to guard against the laxity of Spanish officials tasked with the welfare and evangelization of the natives, and against pusillanimity on the part of church people tasked with the care of souls, through the special pedagogical and compelling power of the confessional. The documents of the full proceedings of the synod were burned in the fire that gutted Manila in 1583, and even the drafts here translated are incomplete. The manuscripts represent only the first part of the intended confessors' handbook. Although written differently in terms of style they both reflect the orientation, scope, sequence, and thoroughness of what must have been the synod's actual treatment of the pressing subject on justice and the rights of the natives during the particularly difficult early years of the colonization of the islands when colonial policy from the crown was just emerging by bits and pieces. The subsistence economy of the country then did not make it easy for the colonists who expected to make a fortune and have a good life in the islands. The diocesan Synod of Manila in 1582 was convened soon after the arrival of Domingo de Salazar, OP, the first bishop of the entire archipelago. The synod was the assembly of the bishop and his advisers, composed of both religious and diocesan clergy, along with competent laymen who were invited as resource persons on the rights and duties of everyone in the colony and the abuses thereof. The synod was clearly the platform for Salazar's [End Page 399] crusading stand for the rights of the indios in the vein of his colleagues in spirit Francisco de Vitoria, OP, in Salamanca, Bartolome de las Casas, OP, in the West Indies, and Juan de Zumárraga, OFM, in Mexico. It was from Mexico whence Salazar was plucked by the King of Spain to be the first bishop of the farthest royal colony in Asia. According to Fr. John Schumacher, SJ, in an article reprinted by Paul Dumol as an introduction to his translation, the lengthier Junta y Congregación could have been from the pen of Fr. Alonso Sánchez, SJ, a main figure in the synod who submitted it in his narrative style as a report to the Jesuit superior general in Rome, while the Suma de Una Junta, composed more like a list of prescriptions, could have been written by Fr. Cristóbal de Salvatierra, OP, synod secretary and companion of Bishop Salazar. The initial violent reactions from Spanish officials against the synod's strict dispositions could have prevented the completion of the synod's handbook for confessors, overtaken by Salazar's 1591 departure for Spain to plead personally before the king his case for the natives and against Spanish abuses. There he passed away three years later. But even if the intended confessor's handbook was never completed, it certainly kept the discussions alive concerning the moral principles that should accompany the Christianization of the islands, animated debates both in the church hierarchy where opposition...