Between heroism and martyrdom:
considerations regarding the representation of the Latin American hero in the
19th century [1]
Maria Berbara
* *
*
1.
The
expression “hero and martyr” can be frequently read on book covers or articles
on the great protagonists of Latin-American history in the 19th century. Just
to quote a few examples, let us consider the book Antonio Jose de Sucre,
gran mariscal de Ayacucho, heroe
y mártir de la independencia
Americana, by William A. Sherwell, first
published in 1924, and Manuel Belgrano, precursor heroe
y mártir de la argentinidad,
by Francisco Mario Fasano, published in 1984.
2.
However,
“hero” and “martyr” are two very distinct concepts, and, in a certain sense,
even antagonistic ones. But when were these concepts formulated in the Western
tradition, as we know them today? In what way did rhetorical and visual
elements dialogue with each other in the process of their formulation, transmission and reception in modernity?
3.
Let us
go back to patristics. The Alexandrian philosopher Origen, writing in the first
half of the 3rd century, noticed the parallels between civil sacrifice and
Christian martyrdom, and noted how Jesus:
4.
accepted his death willingly for the human
race, like those who died for their country to
check epidemics of plague, or famines, or stormy seas. For it is probable that
in the nature of things there are certain mysterious causes which are hard for
the multitude to understand, which are responsible for the fact that one
righteous man dying voluntarily for the community may avert the activities of
the evil demons by expiation, since it is they who bring about plagues or
famines or stormy seas or anything similar.[2]
5.
Here
Origen makes an indirect reference to the great civic heroes of Roman history,
such as Marcus Curtius, Horatius Cocles
or Mucius Scaevola, who volunteered to save the
Republic at the expense of their own integrity. Origen mentions how, both in
the case of Christ’s sacrificial death and in the civic heroism of the
Greco-Roman tradition, there is the idea according to which a person should die
or, at least, be endangered, to re-establish a state of lost balance. Moreover,
both cases have the same premise as a starting point: the life of a person is
less valuable than the maintenance of the community to which they belong. In
both symbolic universes, an abnegated death represents an external sign of
virtue and spiritual strength.
6.
If
Origen, as well as other Church Fathers, saw a solution of continuity between
civic heroism and martyrdom, St. Augustine was relentless when observing the
differences between the two systems, which, to his mind, were insurmountable.
In his City of God, he argues that, firstly, the torture of martyrs is
not self-inflicted, but applied by others, that is, the death of Christ and of
martyr saints is suffered passively, and not actively determined.[3]
Secondly, but most importantly, the Roman hero dies for his country, for the
earthly city, while Christ and the martyrs are sacrificed for the 'city of
God'. Not expecting eternal glory, the former can only have acted out of
vanity.[4]
7.
Despite
all Augustine’s negative criticisms, he considers the pagan hero as a sort of 'competitive model' for Christians:
8.
Yes, it was through that [Roman] empire,
so far reaching in time and space, so famous and glorious for the deeds of its
heroes […], that we have before us such models [exempla], to remind us of our
duty. If in serving the glorious city of God we do not cling to the virtues
that they clung to in serving the glory of the earthly city, let us be pricked
to our hearts with shame.[5]
9.
Similarly,
St. Jerome compares the sacrifice of Christ to the one of Roman heroes,
emphasizing the superior power of the former:
10.
Certainly if we
trust the accounts of the pagans that Codrus, Curtius and the Decii by means of
their death checked plagues, famines and wars of cities, how much more can we
believe that the Son of God by the shedding of His blood cleansed not one city,
but the whole world![6]
11.
The
Church Fathers’ criticism was not a mere rhetorical rivalry, it expressed
fundamental differences between Roman and Christian sacrifices. The Greco-Roman
self-immolation, as Augustine had already observed, was deeply connected not to
religion but to patriotism, which, in that universe, was a moral obligation of
the highest order. Cicero seems to synthesize a widespread opinion when stating
“[...] there is no social relation [...] more close,
none more dear than that which links each one of us with our country. Parents
are dear; dear are children, relatives, friends; one native land embraces all
our loves”.[7] For the early Christians, however, the
idea of homeland had no appeal. They would not die for it, but for God's
kingdom instead. Tertullian had already noted their indifference to civic
matters, “there is nothing more alien to the human being than the public
thing”, he writes in his Apologeticus.[8]
12.
But,
how do artists elaborate this vision of heroes and martyrs? If we move towards
the early modern period, it was not unusual for images to be produced in which
these heroes were represented free from any ambiguity of character, and, what
is more, fully integrated into Christian iconographic programs, where they
figure with the same spiritualized pathos of the martyr saints.
13.
As an
example, I will briefly examine the case of Marcus Curtius,
a Roman warrior who, according to Titus Livius,[9]
saves Rome by throwing himself into a big chasm that had opened in the middle
of the Forum. According to the Oracle, the only way to close the chasm that was
draining Rome and its inhabitants would be to offer in sacrifice the most
valuable possession of the Roman people. Then, the young soldier Marcus Curtius, avowing that no virtue was more Roman than
military weapons and bravery, mounts a warhorse and throws himself into the
abyss, which immediately closes, thus saving the city. In Roman iconography, Curtius is represented at the moment
he leaps into the abyss [Figure 1].
14.
In the
Renaissance, however, the hero starts appearing in a completely different way.
Frequently, its iconography is associated with St. George, the dragon slayer [Figure
2]; in other cases, the
hero is depicted in a spiritualized sense that is completely Christian.
15.
Veronese
[Figure
3], for example,
represents him di sotto in su, as if the
viewer were positioned inside the abyss that drained Rome; Curtius
is represented in the typical attitude of the martyrs, with the head upright
and eyes turned skywards.
16.
The
most important element for our analysis is perhaps the position of his extended
arms. Curtius no longer controls the animal, does not
hold the reins and does not raise his sword; just like
the martyrs, he assumes a totally passive attitude, and the horse seems to
become the instrument of his martyrdom. If we recall the Augustinian objection
to the active posture of the hero as opposed to the submission of the martyr,
it seems clear how the artist has Christianized this episode of Roman history
by taking away from Curtius the power over his own
immolation.
17.
Examples
like this one appear again and again in the early modern period: artists redeem
heroes, transforming them into martyrs by changing their attitude or position.
These changes might seem to be mere details, but they are actually
in dialogue with old and rooted theological traditions of Western
thought.
18.
One
element that seems to unify the hero and the martyr is a deep sense of mission.
This word, in fact, appears recurrently both in literary sources and in
subsequent texts written, for example, about Latin American heroes. Another
recurring term is “cause”.
19.
In
both worlds, therefore, an ideological system is created in which the hero, or
the martyr, is a distinguished individual with a very specific sense of
mission. His fate, beyond his own desires or wishes, is to fulfil this mission.
In a recent book on Bolívar, the author, an Englishman in activity nowadays,
asserts that Bolivar's greatness is in his cause. In the Latin America of the
19th century, it is not difficult to see that often this cause is to become
free from the metropolis and obtain independence. Bolivar said that freedom was
the only thing that justified the sacrifice of a man.[10]
The Venezuelan also believed in the principle of equality – equality between
the Americans and the Spaniards, which was the basis of the discourses of
independence.
20.
Unlike
the martyr, the hero does not need to die; in fact, great heroes of Roman
history such as, for example, Horatius Cocles, live
many years after their heroic actions. When the Christian martyr dies, his
destiny is fulfilled once he achieves the imitation of Christ’s sacrifice; in
the hero’s case, however, a sacrifice is not necessarily needed. On the other
hand, it is in death that the hero actually becomes a
hero; by dying, they fully assume their superhuman dimension.
21.
In his
excellent text on the figure of the hero, Jaime Cuadriello[11]
argues how the categories of greatness and dominance, temperament and action
embrace the “heroic frenzy” of the Renaissance, and how such qualities remain
dormant until Romanticism raises heroicity to the
level of the predestined genius. In the previous centuries, the monarch had
been the reference of the heaven-sent hero; with the rise and fall of so many
crowned heads, it would be the establishment of new political systems based on
the concept of nation that would restore the belief in the predestination of
the hero. These new heroes embody, as defined by Paul Benichou,
the “sanctity of the ideal”.[12]
22.
In a
text of 1984, Michael Walzer[13]
analyses how heroic figures and modern political discourses were based on
Hebrew theology and political philosophy: “It is, ultimately, a call to a
literal exodus, an escape from oppression involving a journey to the Promised
Land, and for that call the biblical account has been the source, supplying all
the images”.[14] In that sense, the hero is the prophet
who was granted a transcendent vision and is willing to sacrifice his own life
in order to materialize it. Soteriology, Messianism, Utopianism, are all
currents that came together to create the Latin American hero / martyr figure.
23.
On the
other hand, thinking in terms of a dialogue with the classical tradition, it is
not difficult to realize that the visual construction of the Latin American
hero borrowed gestures, postures and motifs derived from Greco-Roman antiquity
– heroes who, in turn, had been Christianized. To mention only a few examples,
let us consider the famous Battle of Guararapes, painted by Victor Meirelles in 1879 [Figure 4].
24.
The
painting depicts a battle between the Dutch and the Portuguese in 1649, on the
hill of Guararapes, located where today is the state of Recife, in the
northeast of Brazil. The central character of the painting, towards which the
gaze is immediately directed, is the Portuguese colonial and military governor
André Vidal de Negreiros, who, riding his rearing
horse, raises his sword and advances on the Dutch army. Their leader, Dutch
Colonel Pedro Keeweer, has fallen from his horse and
tries in vain to reach a weapon that will prove useless to him; clearly he is defeated. That composition immediately recalls
different classic visual organizations such as the one in Dexileos’
Stele, where the young Athenian is about to deliver a mortal blow on his fallen
foe [Figure 5], or
even the one in the famous mosaic of Alexander in Naples, which, although badly
damaged, still allows for a clear appreciation of the victorious and impassive
attitude of the heroic leader.
25.
Leandro Izaguirre’s
The Torture of Cuauhtemoc, painted in 1893 [Figure
6], exalts, according to
the classical tradition, the heroic bravery of the defeated. The artist chooses
to represent the moment when Cortez tortures Cuauhtemoc
by burning his feet. Beside him, the noble Aztec Tetlepanquetzal
is likewise tortured, but unlike Cuauhtemoc, he
contracts his feet to avoid the torment. Cuauhtemoc,
sitting, bound and tortured, holds Cortez’s gaze, who, despite his frankly
advantageous position, looks smaller.
26.
It is
almost impossible to look at that painting without remembering the famous Roman
hero Mucius Scaevola. Imprisoned by the Etruscans
during the war that followed the fall of Tarquinii, the Etruscan king, Lars Porsenna, whom Mucius had tried
to murder, threatens to torture Scaevola. At that moment, the hero extends his
right hand over the fire, hence showing his contempt for pain and death and his
loyalty to Rome. The episode was represented many times both in Antiquity and
in the early modern period, in works such as those by Baldung
Grien and Giovanni Antonio Pellegrini [Figure
7].
27.
In
some cases, Scaevola, as well as other heroes, is represented as a typological
prefiguration of Jesus Christ himself; a painting by Francesco di Giorgio
Martini in the Basilica of San Domenico in Siena, for example, represents Mucius and Curtius side by side
on a triumphal arch that appears in the background of an Adoration. Clearly,
one of the main differences between the torture of Cuauhtemoc
and the one of Scaevola is precisely the fact that the latter assumes a
voluntary attitude while the former embraces a passive one, which characterizes
them entirely as a martyr and a hero, respectively.
28.
The
idea of exalting the vanquished is a real topos
of classical culture and often appears in iconography; let us bear in mind,
just to mention a couple of examples, the so-called Dying Gaul [Figure 8], who shows an almost lyrical nobility in his defeat,
or the Ludovisi group, which most likely was part of
the same program commemorating the victory of Pergamum against the Gauls.
29.
Returning
to the intersection of heroism and martyrdom, one of the greatest Brazilian
heroes / martyrs is the “Mineiro”– i.e., born in the
Brazilian state of Minas Gerais – lieutenant and dentist Joaquim Jose da Silva
Xavier, also known as Tiradentes, nicknamed in
Brazilian school textbooks as “martyr of the Inconfidência
Mineira” (martyr of the Minas Conspiracy),
executed in Rio de Janeiro in 1792 for lèse-majesté crimes due to his active
participation in an uprising movement against both the Portuguese rule and the
high rates charged for the gold found in the province.
30.
Once
the conspiracy had been discovered, Tiradentes was
the only one to be condemned to death; the other inconfidentes
(traitors), as they were known, had their sentences commuted for some years in
prison and exile. The crown tried to turn his death into a spectacular exemplum:
Tiradentes was transported to the capital city, Rio
de Janeiro, and, on April 21st 1792 – nowadays a
national holiday – he was carried in procession through the streets of the city
centre up to a square today named after him, where he
was hanged and then had his body dismembered into four parts. His head was
taken to Villa Rica – a city which today is called Ouro
Preto – and placed on a pike, where it remained until it disappeared under
mysterious circumstances.
31.
Although
19th-century Republicans wanted to see in Tiradentes
the leader of a great revolutionary movement, the Inconfidência
or “Conjuração Mineira”
(Minas Conspiracy), as it is known, consisted of a couple of meetings
and was stopped without much effort on the crown’s part. Tiradentes’
own companions accused him of being the leader of the movement, and it is
speculated that he had been chosen as a scapegoat, precisely for being the
participant with the most humble social background.
32.
Already
in the 19th century Tiradentes was depicted as a
martyr: a canvas by Décio Villares
represents him with a Christ’s
appearance, eyes to the sky, the rope around his neck and, as if that were not
enough, the palm of martyrdom. Likewise, a work by Aurelio de Figueiredo
represents Tiradentes,
di sotto in su, on the scaffold [Figure 9]. His
attitude is typical of martyrs: resigned, patient and
proud. The injustice of his death is such that even the executioner conceals
his gaze. Significantly, a dove, the symbol of peace, but also of the Holy
Spirit, flies by.
33.
However,
nowadays, the most famous representation of Tiradentes
is undoubtedly the canvas by Pedro
Américo [Figure 10],
which represents him dismembered. Brazilian researcher Maraliz
Castro studied in depth this work and its critical
fate, analysing the reasons why it was forgotten and
its powerful re-emergence in the 1970s.[15]
34.
It is
not difficult to perceive the artist’s influences: the celebrated paintings by Géricault, Raffet and Brascassat were certainly present at the time of
constructing the hero’s dismembered body. On the other hand, the almost literal
citation of the Vatican Pietà by Michelangelo is evident for the observer;
Christ’s fallen arm would reappear, amongst other important works, in the
murdered Marat by David.
35.
By
representing the dignity of that body torn to pieces, Américo
creates a visual oxymoron in which the body’s humiliation is precisely what
makes it great and noble. The head, reminiscent more of John the Baptist than
of Christ, crowns a still life of members full of mystical significance. The
overall composition, which could not be otherwise, is vertical. In a similar
direction of some Post-Tridentine writtings,
Pedro Américo seems to be willing to arouse the
emotions of the observer, leading them to extreme compunction.
36.
We do
not have enough space here to explore further examples of how artists were in
active dialogue, and not as mere illustrators, with the different traditions of
Western thought linked to the concept of hero and martyr. As in the early
modern period, they seem to have adequately solved a contradiction noted by
philosophers and theologians, and, contrary to what could be expected, it is
that vision that has prevailed throughout the 20th century until the present.
Examples abound – Getulio Vargas, Evita, Che Guevara,
and even Hugo Chavez, whose fight against a cancer that took him too young
seems to have elevated him, according to many, to the magnitude of Bolivar
himself. In all these cases, death, whether natural or not, has sealed the
greatness of their destiny, and intelligent iconographic models were able to
transform them not into heroes + martyrs, but into a third category, different
from the previous two, in which some of their qualities merge but also
transform and recreate themselves.
Bibliographic references
BRADING, D., et al.
El
éxodo mexicano: los
héroes en la mira del arte. México
D.F.: Museo Nacional de Arte, 2010.
CHRISTO, M. C. V. Pintura, história e heróis
no século XIX: Pedro Américo e "Tiradentes Esquartejado", PhD dissertation defended at Unicamp (Campinas, Brazil),
2005.
CUADRIELLO, J. Para visualizar al héroe: mito, pacto y fundación,
In: BRADING. D., et al. El éxodo mexicano:
los héroes en la mira del
arte. México D.F.: Museo Nacional de Arte, 2010.
LYNCH, J. Simón Bolivar, a Life.
New Haven/Londres:
Yale University Press, 2006.
WALZER, M. Exodus
and Revolution. Nueva York: Basic Books, 1984.
_______________________________
[1] Translation by Elena
O’Neill.
[2] Contra Celsum I, 31.
[3] De civitate
dei V,
14.
[4] De civitate
dei V,
18.
[5] De civitate
dei V,
18.
[6] Comment. In: Ephesios I, 1, 7.
[7] De officiis I, 57.
[8] Apologeticus 38, 3.
[9] Ab urbe condita
VII, 6.
[10] Bolivar’s discourse in
Bogotá, January 23rd 1815. Escritos,
VII, p. 264. Quoted by LYNCH, John. Simon Bolivar, a Life. New
Haven/London: Yale University Press, 2006, p. 284.
[11] CUADRIELLO, J.
Para visualizar al héroe: mito, pacto y fundación.
In: BRADING, E. and D., et al. El éxodo mexicano: los
héroes en la mira del arte. México
D.F.: Museo Nacional de Arte, 2010, pp. 39-103.
[12] Apud Cuadriello, p. 44.
[13] Exodus and
Revolution. Nueva York: Basic Books, 1984.
[14] CUADRIELLO,
Op.cit., p. 49.
[15] She did so in her
excellent PhD dissertation, Pintura, história e heróis no século XIX: Pedro Américo e "Tiradentes Esquartejado", defended at Unicamp
(Campinas, Brazil) in 2005.