Of course, this new history must not judge Columbus by standards from our
own time. In 1493 the world had not decided, for instance, that slavery was
wrong. Some American Indian nations enslaved other Indians. Africans
enslaved other Africans. Europeans enslaved other Europeans. To attack
Columbus for doing what everyone else did would be unreasonable.
However, some Spaniards of the time—Bartolomé de Las Casas, for
example—opposed the slavery, land-grabbing, and forced labor that Columbus
introduced on Haiti. Las Casas began as an adventurer and became a plantation
owner. Then he switched sides, freed his Natives, became a priest, and fought
desperately for humane treatment of the Indians. When Columbus and other
Europeans argued that American Indians were inferior, Las Casas pointed out
that Indians were sentient and rational human beings, just like anyone else.
When other historians tried to overlook or defend the Indian slave trade, begun
by Columbus, Las Casas denounced it as “among the most unpardonable
offenses ever committed against God and mankind.” He helped prompt Spain
to enact laws against American Indian slavery.^99 Although these laws came too
late to help the Arawaks and were often disregarded, they did help some
Indians survive. Centuries after his death, Las Casas was still influencing
history: Simon Bolívar used Las Casas’s writings to justify the revolutions
between 1810 and 1830 that liberated Latin America from Spanish domination.
When history textbooks leave out the Arawaks, they offend Native Americans.
When they omit the possibility of African and Phoenician precursors to
Columbus, they offend African Americans. When they glamorize explorers
such as de Soto just because they were white, our histories offend all people of
color. When they leave out Las Casas, they omit an interesting idealist with
whom we all might identify. When they glorify Columbus, our textbooks prod
us toward identifying with the oppressor. When textbook authors omit the
causes and process of European world domination, they offer us a history
whose purpose must be to keep us unaware of the important questions. Perhaps
worst of all, when textbooks paint simplistic portraits of a pious, heroic
Columbus, they provide feel-good history that bores everyone.