I am thinking of how for three hundred years, at least, the Spanish colonies of Latin America were cruelly exploited for their natural resources. All the gold and other metals and resources went to stuff the coffers of Spain and later to fuel the Industrial Revolution in Northern Europe. The indigenous people of Latin America and the Mestizaje got nothing in return. The late Uruguayan writer, Eduardo Galeano, knew what he was doing when he titled his famous book "The Open Veins of Latin America" (Las Venas Abiertas de Latina America)
This also highlights how easily I personally identify with the historical plight of Latin America. When my mother was dying my father asked me to especially give emotional support to my brother. My brother was a wealthy and highly successful radio broadcaster with a wife, a kid, and tons of social status. He didn't like me. I was, as I am now, poor, and barely scraping by. He never lifted so much as a finger to offer me support when I've been in need and his unearned scorn and hatred has likely scarred me for life. Yet, for all their contempt of me, both my father and brother acknowledged and admired my spiritual gifts, my compassion and my willingness as the only practicing Christian in the family to offer whatever love and support I could to those family members who despised me. My brother was by far Father's favourite. Not one bit of concern was expressed about how I might be getting by, or how I might be suffering while waiting for Mother to die. They didn't care about me. I only existed for them according to my utility and usefulness. The day that Mom died, only I and my aunt were with her. My brother was vacationing in Mexico with his wife. He did have the decency to fly back immediately once I'd had his employers contact him for me.
The following day, I visited with him and my father in my brother's home where we remembered Mom together for an hour or two. Then, I needed to get away, so I left graciously and spent the next few days resting and sleeping a lot, given how exhausted I was from taking care of her while she was dying. Days later on the phone my brother yelled and railed at me for not staying longer, for not liking him or my father. He didn't seem to get it when I tried to explain to him that the real fact of the matter is that they did not and never did happen to like me. We haven't seen each other in nearly twenty years and my father has been dead for almost a decade. I do not miss either of them.
Yes, I appreciate from an intestinal level the huge injustice that was inflicted by Mama Espana on the poor indigenous, slaves and mestizos of Latin America.
It was all about making Spain, and especially Europe, wealthy and powerful. The human rights, the very humanity of the poor native people of the Americas mattered not even shit to them. Their humanity interested them not one bit. They existed only for their usefulness, to be of service. This also highlights the sorry legacy of feudalism that clung so tightly to the developing countries of Latin America and how this horrible and sordid mentality still survives in the still hierarchical social class structure there. And of how this ridiculous illusion of social and genetic superiority still completely blinds the ruling classes in Latin America from both, the humanity of the so-called lower orders, and their own humanity, what little they might still have.
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