
In light of the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Commander Fidel Castro Ruz, and in the context of tragic events such as the military aggression against the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela and the kidnapping of its constitutional president, Nicolás Maduro Moros, as well as the imperialist threat looming over Cuba, it is pertinent to highlight José Martí’s legacy and its full relevance in the 21st century.
José Martí instilled in the young leaders of the July 26 Movement not only a deep sense of patriotism, but also—through his ideas and his example as a combatant who died in battle—served as a wellspring of teachings regarding the struggle for national independence, the anti-imperialist principle of unity for a nascent organization facing its principal enemy, the struggle against racial discrimination, and, above all, the significance of what “Our America” represents in the face of Manifest Destiny and the Monroe Doctrine.
The leadership of the Cuban Revolution was shaped and gained political consciousness through Martí, achieving the historical continuity of a process that, paradoxically, spans the final anti-colonial struggle of the 19th century in the Americas and the first socialist revolution on this continent. It is only fair to state: the Cuban people’s triumph over the tyrant Batista and the imperialists who backed him is the full expression of the continuity and fortification of Martí’s legacy.
But Martí, in his greatness and depth, cannot be confined to the borders of the Cuban homeland; he belongs to the peoples of the world and, in particular, to the Latin American peoples who today continue to struggle, despite state terrorism, for their second and definitive independence. We Latin Americans must get to know Martí, study his life and his work. In Martí we will find one of the most illustrious ideologues of national liberation, whose deepest meanings and tenets continue, in many ways, to chart courses and awaken consciences.
One of the most significant components of Martí’s ideology is his concept of the homeland, which political factions have so thoroughly distorted that, for many, it has lost all value. Even from leftist perspectives, confusion has been sown by mistakenly pitting, for example, internationalism against patriotism. One need only recall Julio Antonio Mella’s incisive comment to settle this erroneous dichotomy: “It is not necessary, in order to be an internationalist, to hate the soil of one’s birth, to forget it, to despise it, or to attack it. This is what the reactionary and mercenary writers foolishly claim about us—the internationalists of today, the revolutionaries of the proletariat. No, internationalism means, first and foremost, national liberation from the foreign imperialist yoke and, at the same time, solidarity and close unity with the oppressed of other nations.”
For Martí, love of the homeland is closely linked to the struggle for liberation, as he writes in his famous poem “Abdala”: “Love, the mother of the homeland, / is not the ridiculous love of the earth. / Nor for the grass trodden by our feet. / It is the invincible hatred for those who oppress it, / it is the eternal resentment toward those who attack it. / And such love awakens in our hearts / the world of memories that calls us / back to life once more…/”.
Martí’s patriotism is not based exclusively on his anticolonial and anti-imperialist stances. His concern for the homeland went beyond nationalism. Martí was equally concerned with the internal order of the nation—the conditions under which the masses, with whom he always identified, would live. “With the poor of the earth, I wish to share my fate.” Hence, he clearly states: “Patriotism is a sacred duty when one fights to put the homeland in a position where people can live more happily within it.” For Martí, the patriotic struggle is expressed in the close union between the national and social goals of the liberation movement. In this context, it is perfectly understandable that Martí remarked: “The revolution is not the one we are going to start in the jungles, but the one we are going to carry out in the Republic.” Likewise, the Apostle did not fall into the narrow perspectives of chauvinism; “our homeland is humanity,” he affirmed.
Likewise, Martí’s philosophy takes a clear stance against racism and all forms of ethnocentrism. Hence, he stated: “No man has special rights simply because he belongs to one race or another; call him a man, and that encompasses all his rights. Everything that divides men, everything that separates, categorizes, or marginalizes them, is a sin against humanity. A human being is more than white, more than mixed-race, more than black. Two racists would be equally guilty: the white racist and the black racist.”
He also believed that “Either America succeeds with its Indigenous people or it does not,” concerned with their incorporation into the revolutionary struggle as an important driving force.
Part II of the Enduring Legacy of José Martí
José Martí is best known for his anti-imperialism.
Throughout his writings, the Apostle maintains a clear understanding of the danger the United States posed to the independence not only of his homeland but of all Latin American nations.
Mexican General José María Tornel had already described the United States as “the barbarians of the north,” and the first Mexican ambassador to that country denounced the U.S. crusade against Mexico in 1822.
Tornel writes a warning to his government that seems to describe the current reality: “The prevailing mindset in the United States of America has been, for more than 50 years—that is, since the period of its political infancy—the occupation of a large part of the territory that was formerly Spanish and now belongs to the Mexican nation. Democrats and Federalists—all its parties, under both their old and modern names—have agreed to seek, by every means at the disposal of power and guided by cunning, deceit, and bad faith, the expansion of the republic’s borders to the north, south, and southeast. It is not an Alexander or a Napoleon—ambitious for conquests to extend his dominion or glory—who inspires in the proud Anglo-Saxon race that desire, that fury to usurp and dominate what belongs to others; it is the entire nation—possessed by the restless spirit of the barbarians of another north and another era—that sweeps aside everything that stands in its way in the pursuit of its own aggrandizement, for its right is its desire and justice is its convenience.”
In the same vein, Simón Bolívar had foreseen the interventionist role that the United States would play in Latin America.
Nevertheless, Martí’s merit lies in the fact that he was the first Latin American thinker who, systematically—in his journalistic work and other writings—warned of the imperialist threat and called for a united struggle against the United States. “The trees,” Martí asserted, “must line up so that the seven-league giant cannot pass. It is time to take stock and march united, and we must walk in tight formation like the silver in the roots of the Andes.”
But Martí also remains relevant today on an issue that was crucial for the Granma expeditionaries and that has repeatedly arisen under extreme conditions, such as military dictatorships, imperialist military aggression, or the genocidal strategies of Israel’s Zionist regime against the Palestinian people: at what point is violence by the people necessary?
Martí is right when he states: “It is lawful and honorable to abhor violence and preach against it, as long as there is a visible and rational way to obtain, without violence, the justice indispensable to human well-being; but when one is convinced that, due to differences in character, irreconcilable and divergent interests, and a diversity—as deep as the sea—of minds and aspirations, there is no peaceful means sufficient to secure even minimal rights in a people where the suppressed capacity is now erupting in full force; or he who advocates peaceful means in the face of seething truth is blind; or he who fails to see this and persists in proclaiming it is disloyal to his people.”
There is no doubt that these passages by Martí influenced the revolutionary tactics adopted by the July 26 Movement, which would culminate in the historic January 1, 1959. In El Salvador, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and other countries of our America, where all avenues for legal struggle had been shut down, where electoral action was nothing more than an imposition and a fraud, where even the most basic freedoms of association, assembly, and organization were restricted and suppressed through systemic violence, and where the very existence of a people and a nation was at stake, Martí’s words have resonated powerfully and have revealed the revolutionary consequences of reformism.
Likewise, Martí lives on today in the paths taken by organizations fighting against the capitalist system and imperialism, in his example of dedication, self-sacrifice, and absolute devotion to the cause of liberation, and in the clarity of his political morality, which he summed up in the phrase, “The best way to speak is to act.” Above all, this is true now that political morality seems to have been supplanted by pragmatism—by the practice of achieving ends regardless of the means. Any political, social, labor, or revolutionary movement that loses its integrity and sets aside ethical motivations will fail to garner the support of its social base, much less that of the people.
Martí was an impeccable leader, an intellectual who spanned the broad spectrum of political work: he was an organizer, a public educator, a journalist, and a soldier of the people when necessary. He lived and died as a revolutionary who led by example, and this was one of the greatest legacies he left us.
Original texts by Gilberto López y Rívas published on August 21st, and September 4th, 2026.
Translation by Schools for Chiapas.
