Across the ocean blue

Mark Twain once quipped, “History does not repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” Reflecting on Columbus Day, it’s hard to overlook a rhythmic link between the rise of anti-Muslim sentiment among some conservatives today and the famed Admiral of the Ocean Sea. For, ironically, one of the historic currents that helped push Cristóbal Colón across the Atlantic was anti-Islamic fervor.

Columbus Day marks the discovery of the New World. Consequences aside, the first voyage of Christopher Columbus was a nautical triumph. It sweetly rebuked the flat-earth choruses, the climate change deniers of their day. Some 474 years before Star Trek was a gleam in Gene Roddenberry’s eye, Columbus really did go where no (white) man had gone before. That took vision, nerve and guile. And yes, his voyages helped spark the improbable events that led to the America we call home. For that, I salute him. For that, perhaps we all should.

But then, Columbus and his pseudo-Conquistadors disembarked from the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa María. The soliloquy darkened as they did so, like curling storm clouds obstructing the sun. We begin to hear the whispered rhyme of history as the door to context creaks open. What gave impetus to this audacious voyage of discovery in the first place? It certainly wasn’t the twinkle in Columbus’ eye. In the larger scheme of things, our protagonist is a bit player in this epic movie. Among the key motivations: Castilian saber-rattling, royal lust for gold, an insatiable appetite for herbs & spices, and a mortal fear that rival Portugal might herself find a western route to Asia (and its booty) first.

But a potent combination of Christian missionary and anti-Islamic zeal underpinned the entire endeavor. For Spain was literally forged from the clash of civilizations between Christians and Muslims. The region of Hispania (Spain) was once property of the Roman Empire. After the glory of Rome imploded, marauding Moors conquered the Iberian Peninsula during the Middle Ages. Gradually, the “Reconquista” by Christian kingdoms rolled the Muslims back. In 1492, the armies of Spain’s power couple, Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castile, vanquished the remnants of Islamic rule at Granada. Into this cauldron rode Columbus to pitch his Faustian Bargain. (Columbus was actually present at the siege of Granada. While en route home, the royal couple re-summoned him to the Spanish Court to approve his proposal.)

As euphoria swept Spain, the Catholic Monarchies agitated for war against the greater Ottoman Empire. Invading the Muslim infidels from the west might better expose their soft underbellies to Christendom’s ambition. That likely meant charting a western route across the open Ocean Sea. And here was Columbus, hat and map in hand, offering to show them the way for a relative pittance. Add, too, the powerful Franciscan brotherhood. Convinced that the prophesied End Days were nigh, the brethren saw Columbus as a useful vessel. They hoped the promised booty of gold would help bankroll a Crusade to the Holy Land, a precondition for the Last Judgment.

Lastly, there were the quite human impulses of Columbus himself. Contrary to revisionist portrayals of him as an enlightened Genoese saint (See Ridley Scott's 1492: Conquest of Paradise and assorted US postal stamps), Cristóbal was mostly in it for the money, the power and the glory. Journey’s end meant a fast-track to the Spanish A-List. His guiding motto would have likely impressed Wall Street’s Gordon Gecko: Gold, like greed, is good.

And so with visions of gold ingots, square riggings pulled taunt with eschatological fervor and a Royal mandate to convert the wretched infidel, “Don” Christopher Columbus – high admiral and viceroy of the Ocean Sea and perpetual Governor of discovered lands – caught the west wind in 1492, and sailed across the ocean blue.