The Path Between The Seas

The title of the book says it all–it is a history of the building of the Panama Canal, the greatest engineering feat of all time to that date.

I’m not finished with the book yet.  I’ve read the entire section on the French efforts under De Lesseps, the transition period, and am now rereading the section on the Panamanian revolution/separation from Columbia.  The latter was an eye-opener for me, and blasted all sorts of assumptions I’d made about what happened.  Yes, US intervention was crucial to the Panamanian revolution; without it, the new Republic wouldn’t have lasted a week and the founders of Panamá were well aware of it.

BUT I had always assumed the the Canal Treaty originated with the US.  In fact, it did not.  Panamá got an incredibly raw deal with that treaty–but it was written and signed by a Frenchman who was the official representative of the new Panamanian Republic.  Philippe Bunau-Varilla was a director and stockholder in the second French company that held assets in Panamá that included the work done so far on the canal and a great deal of machinery, buildings, etc.  Panamá, of course, was not the country but the Department of Panamá, of Columbia.  Bunau-Varilla was desperate to sell of the canal assets BUT also to see that the canal was built, in order to rescue, as he put it, French honor and French genius.  As he saw it, the only country who would and could do it was the US.

Bunau-Varilla and an American lawyer who represented the French company, set out on a campaign to convince the US Senate to build the canal in Panamá, not in Nicaragua as was the near-unanimous sentiment at the time.  The campaign was brilliant, aimed at the right people–including Teddy Roosevelt who was President–and who appreciated the technical arguments.

But the final hangup was Colombia, thanks basically to misunderstandings on the part of the US government as to what was really happening in Colombia and what its intentions really were.  What was ready to  hand was a completely home-grown, potential revolution of Panamanians, who were convinced of the necessity of separating from Colombia but were well aware of the dangers.  Bunau-Varilla manipulated these men, especially Dr. Amador, and in the end, lied to the Panamanians in order to get from them his official role as the single person who would represent the new Republic to the US.  That, of course, was to get a treaty that would be to the advantage of the French company and accomplish his goals.  In order to make sure that the treaty would pass the Senate without hassle in the least amount of time, he wrote one that gave away the Canal Zone to the US, excepting outright ownership.  But the US had sovereign rights within the Canal Zone.

The terms of the treaty were nothing short of incredible, far, far more than the US had been prepared to ask.  In fact, when Secretary of State Hay and others saw it, they were flabbergasted–but of course accepted the treaty–who wouldn’t?  So, the treaty was signed–hours before the official Panamanian delegation reached Washington–and were, as Bunau-Varilla knew they would be, totally outraged; he was fired from his position on the spot.  But it was too late.

As the final piece in the drama, Roosevelt violated a 50 year old US treaty with Colombia by sending warships, landing troops and preventing the movement of Colombian troops in Colón.  The story of the revolution on November 3 is wonderful.  Word had gotten to Panama City that Colombian troops–500 of them–had landed in Colón.  Dr. Amador and the rest of the conspirators panicked, visualizing very realistically firing squads and other unpleasant consequences.  But the hero of the revolution was Señora Amador, Dr. Amador’s wife.  She supposedly told them to get on with the fight, soldiers or no soldiers.  And she was the one who concocted a brilliant scheme that was the reason the revolution was a bloodless one. The only casualty was that of a Chinese shopkeeper who was killed in his bed when a Colombian warship fired 5 or 6 shells on Panama City.  He and a donkey!  It’s just the greatest story.

There’s far more to it that what I’ve just outlined.  This is a greatly simplified summary just of parts; the history of the French effort in itself is utterly absorbing.  The whole story is so wild that it actually wouldn’t make a good novel–people would scorn it–”over the top”–”unrealistic”–yet it’s all true!

I have always loved history and there is no reason on earth why it has to be boring, because the stories usually aren’t.  It takes a good historian who is also both a good story-teller and a good writer.  McCullough is all of these.  He is one of the foremost historians of the present time, having won the Pulitzer Prize twice, both times for biographies.  The only other book of his that I’ve read so far is his biography of John Adams, which is really fascinating and very well written.   I think he’s a better writer in The Path Between the Seas.

As I said, I haven’t finished the book yet, but it is hard for me to believe that the story of the successful US effort to build the canal and all that that meant is going to disappoint.  McCullough is too good a historian, the story is too good, and he writes too well.

This is a must read for all sorts of people–those interested in Panamanian history, those looking for a true-life action-adventure story in the building of the Canal and those who just plain like well-researched history that is beautifully written.