by Spyridon Andrews via American Greatness,
When
the dust settles hundreds of years from now and people begin to assess
the hows and whys of Western decline, the issue of colonialism will
figure prominently.

We
are traveling from Mexico City to San Miguel de Allende with “The
Professor,” a San Miguel resident who makes extra money by driving
tourists from Mexico City to San Miguel. The title of professor is
honorary. He is a self-taught scholar, a writer, and a highly
intelligent man who works odd jobs around San Miguel to earn a living.
The Professor is sharing tales of the Aztec Empire with us as we drive
northward, stopped only briefly by the friendly Mexican police who take
their usual bribe of around $200 as insurance against being arrested for
more serious crimes, real or fictitious.

The Professor goes on to tell us that all the horrible atrocities allegedly committed by the Aztecs were lies, all lies.
Native American culture is burned into the mental DNA of Central
Mexico. Children assemble on holidays dressed like little Aztec warriors
for parades. There is pride in their Aztec heritage.
On
the way back, we stop to see the pyramids outside Mexico City, and The
Professor is full of information about this fascinating culture. He
describes their innovation, tremendous power, and unrivaled legacy. The
Professor is a proud man.

But
despite my enormous respect for The Professor, the stories about the
Aztecs are not lies. The Aztecs believed that the gods had sacrificed
themselves to create the world and that, out of necessity, human blood
was required to keep the sun moving across the sky. Human and animal
sacrifice have been elemental features of nature religions throughout
history. The harvest required blood.
The Aztecs sacrificed
prisoners of war in religious ceremonies. The prisoners were led to the
tops of temple pyramids, held down by priests, and had their hearts cut
out while still alive. Their bodies were then strewn down the steps of
the pyramid; the bloodier the spectacle, the better. Archaeological
studies at sites such as Templo Mayor have uncovered racks of human
skulls known as tzompantli. Human sacrifice was one of the things that
made the empire go, alongside continual military conquest and tribute
extraction. Subject peoples were required to provide food, textiles,
luxury goods, labor, and, when the priests ran out of bodies,
sacrificial victims. The Aztecs were so hated that many indigenous
groups allied themselves with the Spaniards.

The
Mayans also get a bit of a pass. They are remembered for their
astronomy, mathematics, writing system, and cities, but not nearly as
much for their human sacrifice, torture, and public humiliation of
victims. Ritual killings were common, and murder was infused with
religious meaning and legitimacy.
There is an awful lot of
emphasis on the atrocities of the Spanish conquerors, and there should
be. The conquistadores were not such nice guys either. But for all the
talk about colonialism, few dare to examine it thoughtfully. Contrary to
what they may believe over at Barnard or Smith College, fighting
colonialism does not consist of wearing a mask into Philz Coffee.
History shows that colonialism is not good or bad in the abstract, any
more than all indigenous populations were terrific people who deserved
to remain in power forever.

The
coffee-shop view of colonialism assumes that moral legitimacy flows
automatically from historical priority. We are told that people who
arrived first possess a uniquely valid claim to the land and that later
arrivals are forever burdened by a kind of original sin. Arguments about
ownership in the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and the Americas frequently
revolve around the endlessly repeated question of who was there first.
To which I say, is this the real question?
Human history
is not a story of static populations peacefully occupying fixed
territories. Human history is a bloody mess. It is a story of migration,
conquest, assimilation, intermarriage, commerce, shifting alliances,
and conflict. Before one group was there, another was there. And before
them, another. The idea of an original owner is neither logical nor
provable.
The notion that being “here first” creates a
permanent political entitlement does not survive even minimal scrutiny.
If first possession establishes political sovereignty, then every modern
nation on earth is illegitimate. Every border, kingdom, republic, and
civilization would need to defend itself against claims arising from
earlier migrations and forgotten peoples.

Equally
false are theological and mystical claims to land. In Israel today,
three different religions claim rights to the same patch of desert based
upon the authority of their holy books. Throughout history, religions
have invoked divine authority to invade neighboring lands, expel
inhabitants, and wage war. Whether the justification comes from Manifest
Destiny, the Torah, the Talmud, the Koran, or some other sacred source,
the underlying claim is essentially the same. And it is nonsense.
The more important question is not who was here first. The more important question is who governs well. I submit that political legitimacy is derived from creating conditions in which human beings can flourish.
Legitimacy is established through justice, the protection of liberty,
the maintenance of order and safety, the safeguarding of property, the
encouragement of opportunity, and the principle that rulers themselves
are subject to law.

Today’s
discussions of colonialism often condemn it as a single phenomenon. Yet
colonial ventures—and indigenous governments—varied enormously. Some
colonial regimes were exploitative and destructive. Others introduced
institutions that became the foundation of later prosperity. Most
contained elements of both.
Some colonial regimes, like Great
Britain in many instances, created railroads, ports, courts,
universities, modern medicine, commercial systems, property rights, and
civil administration. Historical analysis requires attention to actual
results rather than slogans.

Under
British administration, Hong Kong evolved from a relatively modest
trading settlement into one of the world’s most prosperous financial
centers. The British were not perfect, since they were, after all, British.
But they created opportunities for millions of people over the century,
or so they were in power. Then the indigenous Chinese government came
into power, bringing its usual basket of fun.
Beijing imposed the
National Security Law in 2020. Hong Kong went from one of the freest and
most prosperous cities in Asia to a place where political dissent can
land you in prison. Independent newspapers were shut down, activists
jailed, elections restructured, and civic organizations dissolved. But
don’t worry, because it was indigenous.
Singapore followed a
different path. The British established a major international port, a
functioning legal system, English-language administration, and
commercial institutions. Singapore’s leaders built upon those
foundations rather than dismantling them. The result was one of the most
remarkable economic transformations in modern history. Today, Singapore
is one of the safest, wealthiest, and most efficiently governed
societies in the world. They built upon foundations laid by the evil
colonizers.

Then
there is India. British rule was far from one big tea party.
Nevertheless, modern India inherited a nationwide civil service, a
common-law legal system, rail networks, universities, administrative
structures, and commercial institutions that continue to play important
roles today. The British made considerable damage, the most lasting of
which may be the Indian fascination with cricket, a hideous and boring
game, along with the equally annoying habit of taking tea in the middle
of a match.

So
not all colonial empires are created equal. And now, we should also
point out, not all indigenous cultures are created equal. There are many
examples, including recent ones, of governments that enjoyed broad
cultural support before delivering poverty, repression, corruption,
economic stagnation, and the suppression of civil liberties. Cuba,
Venezuela, and many African nations come readily to mind.
This
confidence in indigenous culture is often paired with the equally
dubious assumption that all cultures are equal in their outcomes. Sorry,
despite what your anthropology professor told you, all cultures are not
equal. Some encourage innovation, literacy, accountability, and
economic development. Some protect women, minorities, and dissenters.
Some cultivate the peaceful transfer of power. Others normalize
violence, patronage, corruption, and disregard for human rights.
Zimbabwe
under Robert Mugabe was indigenous. He imposed political repression,
economic mismanagement, hyperinflation, and destroyed the agricultural
sector. He was handed the ball on the five-yard line and fumbled it. Idi
Amin was indigenous. His regime became notorious for brutality and
persecution. South Africa today has an indigenous government. So does
Mexico. The fact that leaders share ancestry with the people they govern
tells us nothing about whether they govern wisely.

And
what about us? How much comfort should we take from the fact that our
own political class is homegrown? Does it make endless debt, endless
wars, corruption, and institutional decline more acceptable because the
people responsible were born here?
History is not sentimental.
It does not care who arrived first, whose ancestors crossed a
particular river, or whose holy book claims title to a patch of ground.
History does not award virtue based upon genealogy, ethnicity, race,
religion, or indigeneity. It asks a far more practical question: What
did you do with the place once you got it?
Did you create
liberty or oppression? Prosperity or poverty? Justice or corruption? Did
ordinary people have the opportunity to build families, businesses,
communities, and meaningful lives? Were rulers constrained by law, or
did they become laws unto themselves? Did your institutions survive your
leaders, or did everything collapse into tribalism, violence, and
decay?
That is how civilizations are judged.
Rome is not remembered because Romans got there first. Britain is not
remembered because Britons got there first. America will not be
remembered because Americans got here first. They will be remembered for
what they built, what they preserved, what they destroyed, and whether
they expanded or diminished the possibilities of human flourishing.
In
the end, legitimacy is not inherited. It is earned. It does not arise
from ancestry, mythology, chronology, or blood. It arises from
competence, justice, liberty, opportunity, and the rule of law. The
question is not who was here first. The question has always been, and
will always be, who governs well.