Don’t get me wrong. Margaritas, chips and queso, and mariachi music are wonderful—but they’re not required for celebrating Cinco de Mayo. The holiday memorializing the Battle of Puebla has become, for some north of the border, an excuse to overindulge in Tex-Mex fare and festivities. While it’s always a good idea to support family-owned Mexican restaurants and taquerias, there are other ways to honor our shared heritage with Mexico and to commemorate a proud moment in Mexican history.
On May 5, 1862, an outnumbered and untrained army of indigenous Mexicans, civilians, soldiers, and Tejanos led by Texas-born Ignacio Zaragoza defeated French invaders on a hill overlooking Puebla, a city eighty miles southeast of the Mexican capital. Victory was short-lived—the French regrouped, eventually took the town, and then occupied the country for another few years—but not long after the conflict ended, Mexican immigrants and Mexican Americans in Texas began commemorating the anniversary of the battle that took place in the shadow of the active volcano Popocatépetl.
The first Cinco de Mayo celebration in Texas was held in 1867 in the small border community of San Ygnacio, as documented by Américo Paredes in his 1995 book A Texas-Mexican Cancionero: Folksongs of the Lower Border. Now a quiet collection of buildings that’s listed in the National Register of Historic Places, the town is constructed around a traditional kiosko, a Mexican-style plaza with a bandstand, in its center. Standing there, it’s not difficult to imagine local musician Onofre Cárdenas strumming his guitar and singing his tribute song, “A Zaragoza,” during that first celebration. His lyrics refer to the war hero as the “unconquerable general of the border.” It’s enough to fill one with steely Texas pride. Paredes doesn’t mention much else beyond the singing. But if later holidays offer a glimpse of traditional celebrations, the earliest cultural commemorations of Cinco de Mayo likely included a parade, folk dancing, and yes, good food—such as carne guisada, mole, and enchiladas.
Newspaper stories written in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century mentioned Cinco de Mayo festivities in towns across the state. Though some gatherings were as simple as carne asada and picnics in public spaces, others were more formal.
In 1892, the Sons of Juarez held a festival in San Antonio for Cinco de Mayo, which included a eulogy to Zaragoza, musical performances, and poetry-reading. In its story, the San Antonio Daily Light newspaper confused the date with Mexican Independence Day—a common misunderstanding about Cinco de Mayo, which within Mexico is primarily celebrated in the state of Puebla. (Mexico’s Independence Day is September 16.)
Beeville’s 1903 party was advertised as a town-wide event, funded by Tejano and white residents, to mark the 41st anniversary of the battle. According to the Spanish-language San Antonio paper El Regidor, the day included a dance recital and a speech by Sheriff J. E. Wilson. “[These festivals] were normal. They were no big deal,” says Raúl A. Ramos, associate professor of history at the University of Houston.
A 1918 Cinco de Mayo supplement published by La Prensa, another San Antonio paper, featured an image of Zaragoza and the headline “La Inviolabilidad de las Naciones (Invulnerability of the Nations)”, referring to Mexico and Texas.
More than a century later, Cinco de Mayo celebrations still take place in communities across the state. This year, there are events in Brownsville (May 2), Dallas, El Paso, Houston, Lubbock (May 3), and more towns and cities.
If you know where to look, reminders of the day’s cultural and historical significance seem to be everywhere. A statue of Zaragoza stands in Laredo’s main square, San Agustîn Plaza. A bust of the Tejano general sits in the Parque Zaragoza Recreation Center in East Austin. Visiting his birthplace at Presidio La Bahía will take you to the town of Goliad, a storied place in Texas history and the site of an obelisk that honors executed Texas Independence hero Colonel James W. Fannin.
“All these histories are next to and on top of each other. They’re not separate, ” Ramos adds. “They’re happening at the same time to the same people.”
Cinco de Mayo, like the places that memorialize the Battle of Puebla, reminds us that Texas remains a former Mexican province called Tejas, that braided histories of our state and Mexico, of Texans and Mexicans, cannot be undone. The political boundary between us, the Rio Grande or the Rio Bravo, is merely a body of water that runs through a part of the world, where people share heritage and heroes, culture and customs, festivals and—take it from me—the best food you can eat.
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