Love Bombing Puerto Rico

How U.S. Attitudes Towards Puerto Rican Identities and Movement Denote the Role of American Nativism in U.S. Policy

By Katelyn Briscoe

Since the United States acquired Puerto Rico as a territory following the Spanish-American War in 1898, it has employed a strategy of "noncolonial imperialism" that initially garnered support from Puerto Ricans^[1]. However, this relationship has soured as Puerto Ricans have come to recognize the political and economic subordination imposed by U.S. capitalism. This evolving dynamic has sparked ongoing debates about the best path forward for Puerto Rico, amidst U.S. policies that foster dependency while relegating Puerto Ricans to second-class citizenship. Through the lens of Puerto Rican identities and movements, it becomes clear that U.S. policies reflect a broader pattern of American nativism aimed at any group perceived as a threat to white Protestant dominance. The Insular Cases of 1901-1905, which established Puerto Rico as "foreign in a domestic sense," were not contradicted by the Jones Act of 1917, which granted Puerto Ricans U.S. citizenship while simultaneously stripping them of their autonomy. That same year, the Immigration Act of 1917 imposed severe restrictions on immigration, further entrenching nativist sentiments. The 1924 Johnson-Reed Act and the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924, which similarly undermined the autonomy of Native Americans, exemplify this trend. Throughout the 20th century, U.S. immigration policies particularly targeted Asian and Mexican immigrants, revealing striking parallels in how Puerto Ricans—both on the island and in the mainland—were characterized. The identities and movements of Puerto Ricans are thus intricately linked to American nativism.^[2] While much literature connects American nativism to U.S. immigration policies, this research seeks to deepen the conversation by situating the U.S.-Puerto Rico relationship within the broader context of 20th-century immigration and citizenship policies. By examining Puerto Rico alongside U.S. policies aimed at groups deemed threats to white Protestantism, it becomes evident that American nativism has played a significant role in the subordination of Puerto Rico and its people.

Amidst the Spanish-American War, Puerto Rico was seen as key for the protection of a future canal through Central America, and Theodore Roosevelt wrote Senator Henry Cabot Lodge in 1898 to urge him not to end the war with Spain without seizing Puerto Rico for the U.S.^[3] The nineteen-day long military campaign of 1898 in Puerto Rico resulted in the island being taken as an outpost, establishing the foundation for the U.S. to rise as a global power without constructing a colonial empire.^[4] John Hay—a U.S. ambassador in London at the time—famously referred to the brief campaign as the “splendid little war.”^[5] Puerto Rico was previously under Spanish administration and Ayala and Bernabe assert that, despite later recasting of the events of the U.S. invasion as traumatic, all evidence indicates that the 1898 U.S. invasion was welcome by Puerto Ricans and seen as a “positive break with the past.”^[6] 

As Puerto Rico was taken as a U.S. territory, expansion of American power and influence fostered a national debate surrounding imperialism, which was an issue that dominated the presidential election campaign of 1900.^[7] Puerto Rico was acquired along with Guam and the Philippines, quickly leading to the conversation of what should be done next with the newly acquired territories. The Treaty of Paris decided that these acquired territories’ “civil rights and political status…” should be determined by Congress.^[8] 

The military government that had ruled the island since the U.S. acquired the territory in 1898 was replaced by a civilian government for Puerto Rico in 1900 with Congress’ approval of the Foraker Act, also known as the Organic Act of 1900. In addition to the civilian government established by the law, the Foraker Act also imposed a temporary 15% tariff on goods moving between Puerto Rico and the U.S. The significance of this temporary tariff of the Foraker Act, Ayala and Bernabe assert, was Congress’ organization of U.S. rule over Puerto Rico by treating it as separate from the U.S., simultaneously affirming U.S. rule and defining the island as foreign territory.^[9] Notably, the Foraker Act was intended to be a temporary measure to provide a civil government for Puerto Rico but has to this day never been repealed.^[10]

The Foraker Act quickly became controversial amongst anti-colonialists in the U.S., forcing the Supreme Court to determine the legislation’s constitutionality. The Insular Cases, a series of opinions by the Supreme Court surrounding the status of territories acquired by the U.S. in the Spanish-American War, ensued. These cases answered the question of how people of territories under the American flag would be treated. These cases determined that the Constitution did not “follow the flag,” as territories like Puerto Rico were not foreign territories, but were also not part of the U.S.^[11] The decision of the Downes v. Bidwell case, the most known of the Insular Cases, defined the new relationship between Puerto Rico and the United States. The case—brought by an importer of oranges sent from San Juan to New York who complained about the 15 percent tax imposed by the Foraker Act—was heard by the Fuller Court, named after Chief Justice Melville W. Fuller. This was the same court that “sanctioned racial discrimination in the U.S. in the notorious Plessy v. Ferguson case of 1896” that ruled segregation was constitutional if facilities were “separate but equal,”^[12] among other controversial, undistinguished opinions. In a 5-4 decision, the Court upheld the constitutionality of the Foraker Act with members of the majority offering different rationales for their votes. Among them, the decision of Justice Edward Douglass White became the most influential.^[13] 

The constitutional theory established by the Insular Cases became known as the doctrine of territorial incorporation^[14] as White differentiated between incorporated and unincorporated territories, giving the power to Congress to determine whether it would incorporate a territory that had come under U.S. control.^[15] White’s opinion held that while in an international sense, Puerto Rico was not a foreign country, “since it was…owned by the United States, it was foreign to the United States in a domestic sense.” Congress, therefore, was empowered by the Supreme Court to “locally govern at discretion,” in other words, holding Puerto Rico and other insular territories indefinitely without ever incorporating them into the U.S. and without making the promise of eventual statehood or granting their people the full constitutional rights of citizens of the states.^[16] However, colonialism was now constitutional, per White’s doctrine, as long as it respected certain basic individual rights.^[17]

Puerto Ricans had been assured that the object of American rule would be to promote their prosperity and to bestow upon them immunities and blessings of the “liberal institutions” of the U.S. government. To this measure, most Puerto Ricans were disappointed for the first half century of American rule on the island, not being impressed with the two “organic acts” passed by Congress in 1900 and 1917.^[18] American acquisition of insular territories following the Spanish-American War and U.S. intervention in Cuba, Cabranes argues, are illustrative of America’s new role in world affairs: “…an abiding sense of mission and a certain nobility of purpose; a belief in the superiority of American institutions and values; an insensitivity or indifference to peoples and values imperfectly understood; and an ambivalence about the exercise of power combined with a deeply rooted innocence.”^[19]

The indifference to peoples and values imperfectly understood was clearly demonstrated through the differences in the way two of these territories were treated. While the Jones Act of 1916 afforded eventual independence for the Philippines, the Jones Act of 1917 asserted a permanent, existing relationship with smaller, more “loyal” territory of Puerto Rico through the conference of U.S. citizenship.^[20] While the U.S. did not set out to build a formal colonial empire, its rise to global influence took a complex route to “noncolonial yet global hegemony” as the U.S. carried along with it the colony of Puerto Rico that was neither part of the U.S. nor its informal empire.^[21] 

The treatment of Hawaii at the same time was also entirely different. Hawaii was annexed in 1898 through the Newlands Resolution, Hawaii’s organic act, which was passed shortly after the Foraker Act in 1900. This resolution made Hawaii part of the U.S. and started it on the path to statehood. Another one of the Insular Cases, the Mankichi case confirmed Congress’ incorporation of Hawaii in 1903, and by 1905 the Supreme Court also decided that Alaska was an incorporated territory through the Rasmussen case. It was not until the Balzac case in 1922 that the Court unanimously ruled that the extension of American citizenship to the Puerto Ricans did not make Puerto Rico part of the U.S.^[22]

While granting Puerto Ricans citizenship suggested an equality of rights, privileges, and full membership in the American political community, Cabranes argues Puerto Ricans’ newly granted U.S. citizenship obscured “the colonial relationship between a great metropolitan state and a poor overseas dependency.” This second-class citizenship given to Puerto Ricans, who were given no expectation of equality under the American system, perpetuated Puerto Rico’s colonial status and contributed to the future of U.S. legislation regarding its relationship with Puerto Rico.^[23] When Congress passed legislation in 1950 establishing Puerto Rico as a Commonwealth, Puerto Ricans remained disenfranchised without a right to vote for the U.S. President; this political arrangement simply allowed Puerto Rico’s internal government the opportunity to draft its own Constitution.^[24] While Puerto Rican voters have since chosen to retain their commonwealth status, Puerto Rico’s relationship with the U.S. has been a hotly debated topic both nationally and internationally. Many agree that change is necessary, but disagreement on what change is best persists.

Since its acquisition as a U.S. territory, and particularly following the passage of the Jones Act of 1917, Puerto Rican politics have been characterized by three primary positions regarding the island's future: independence, statehood, or commonwealth status. The timing of the Jones Act coincided with the U.S. draft for World War I, raising concerns for Puerto Rican Governor Arthur Yager. He feared that the act's implementation might “bring a campaign of misrepresentation as to the motives of the American Government in granting citizenship.” However, his worries proved unfounded, as there were no ulterior motives—contrary to allegations that surfaced in later years.^[25] Nonetheless, there was an immediate call for reforms following the Jones Act's approval.^[26]

The Unión, the dominant political party advocating for Puerto Rican independence, delayed its formal response until after World War I concluded in 1918. Through the new Resident Commissioner, Félix Córdova Dávila, the party requested a plebiscite for the people of Puerto Rico to determine their political status. However, fearing that advocating for independence could be seen as treasonous, they considered statehood the only viable alternative. The situation was further complicated by a 1917 Supreme Court decision that reversed a ruling by the Supreme Court of Puerto Rico regarding the island's incorporation status, which was then ignored in Congress when the proposed plebiscite was introduced as a 1919 House Joint Resolution. Instead, in 1920, the first bills for an elective governor were filed. Córdova Dávila’s proposal also sought recognition of Puerto Rico’s right to separate representation in the League of Nations, contingent on the ratification of the Treaty of Versailles.^[27]

However, the elective governor bills did not even receive consideration from the Committee on Insular Affairs. In response to growing frustrations, the main political parties in Puerto Rico pressed for the appointment of a resident Puerto Rican as governor in 1921. President Warren G. Harding, historically infamous for his administration's corruption—most notably the Teapot Dome Scandal—responded by appointing E. Mont Reily, a Kansas City postmaster with questionable qualifications. This appointment sparked justified outrage among Puerto Ricans, as Reily's ineffectiveness was evident from the outset. One of his first actions was to appoint an illiterate prison guard from Kansas City as head of the Secret Service in Puerto Rico, alongside several other ill-informed appointments that the Senate refused to confirm. The situation deteriorated rapidly, prompting the Senate to file articles of impeachment against Reily by 1922. In response, Harding dismissed the district attorney preparing the charges, and ultimately, the Bureau of Insular Affairs recommended Reily’s removal. He was replaced by Horace M. Towner as governor in 1923,^[28] exemplifying the apathy and negligence of the U.S. government towards Puerto Rico.

Efforts to reform the 1917 Jones Act and enhance Puerto Rico’s self-governing powers faced significant obstacles. Numerous bills proposing changes were either ignored or killed before reaching the House for debate. The prevailing attitude in Washington was that “Puerto Rico’s problems were economic rather than political.”^[29] While the island indeed faced severe economic challenges, it was not without its political issues. As political tensions escalated, the Unión party found it increasingly difficult to maintain favorable relationships with Puerto Rican governors, as Unión members were progressively excluded from government positions. In response to this growing political pressure, the Unión removed the goal of independence from its platform, instead campaigning for an Estado Libre Asociado (ELA), or commonwealth, in 1922.

Puerto Rico's dependency on the U.S. deepened during the 1917-1932 Jones era, a period marked by growing dissatisfaction with the local regime and Washington’s indifference to the island’s plight.^[30] Despite various proposed bills, none advanced because President Calvin Coolidge staunchly opposed reforms. He maintained that Puerto Rico was already “enjoying freedoms for which it was not yet prepared,” asserting that the Treaty of Paris made no promises to the island and even expressed resentment toward Puerto Rico’s colonial status under “such a liberal government charter as the Jones Act.”^[31]

Contrary to Coolidge's beliefs, the reality on the island reflected systemic exploitation. U.S. involvement included “outright racist and exploitative actions,” creating economic opportunities primarily benefiting the U.S. while leaving Puerto Rico politically and economically vulnerable. This imperialistic relationship resulted in a model where all production was export^[32]ed to the U.S. tax-free, while essential goods had to be imported, a dynamic Morales describes as “tax imperialism.” This arrangement allowed large U.S. businesses to thrive at the expense of the local population, creating a dire situation for Puerto Ricans.^[33]

By the early 1930s, it became evident that the U.S. had failed to fulfill its promises of political and economic improvement for Puerto Rico. Unemployment soared to 30.2 percent even before the onset of the Great Depression, with the per capita income for Puerto Ricans in 1930 at a mere $230.[34] As a million and a half Puerto Ricans faced extreme poverty, lacking basic necessities such as adequate housing, food, and medical services, American sugar companies prospered.^[35] The economic downturn brought by the Depression only exacerbated the already grim circumstances. Notably, the New Deal, FDR’s initiative to revive the U.S. economy, shifted its focus toward Puerto Rico’s economic plight, exposing the failures of colonial policies. Rexford G. Tugwell, a member of FDR’s brain trust, remarked on the degradation caused by colonialism, asserting that Puerto Ricans were forced to “beg” for relief, reducing them to “something less than the men they were born to be.”^[36]

Trías Monge aptly concludes that Puerto Rico became emblematic of the failed American dream of managing an empire as a democracy, a notion Walter Lippmann critiqued as an impossible imperialistic fantasy.^[37] It was not until the election of Luis Muñoz Marín as governor in 1948 that a glimmer of hope emerged. The U.S. sought to humanize its colonial experiment by collaborating with Muñoz Marín in forming the Popular Democratic Party (PDP), which blended socialist, independentista, and liberal elements. This strategy aimed to marginalize militant nationalism while obscuring the ongoing U.S. control of the island. Although Muñoz Marín worked with the Truman administration to establish the Estado Libre Asociado de Puerto Rico (ELA), or Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, advocates for both statehood and independence perceived this arrangement as a subordinate status.^[38]

The persistent exploitation of Puerto Rico fueled nationalist sentiments. Prominent nationalist leader Pedro Albizu Campos articulated the frustrations with U.S. involvement, asserting that American presence severely limited the islanders' self-determination and labeled the U.S. as the “assassin” of everyday citizens.^[39] In response to growing unrest, the Puerto Rican Congress drafted Public Law 600 in 1946, aiming to address the “nationalist problem” and comply with newly established UN decolonization requirements. The passage of PL 600 only intensified the rhetoric of the Nationalist Party, culminating in an armed insurrection in October 1950. The ELA was officially established, with its constitution implemented on July 25, 1952, a date that marked the 54th anniversary of the U.S. Navy’s landing in Guánica, initiating American control over Puerto Rico.

One of the significant outcomes of the new Commonwealth was the implementation of Operation Bootstrap, which sought to transform Puerto Rico’s agricultural economy into an industrial one. Under Muñoz Marín’s leadership, efforts were made to attract U.S. corporate investment, with the hope that economic improvements would foster greater self-determination for the island. However, the impacts of Operation Bootstrap were largely detrimental. High unemployment rates, dependence on external investments seeking the lowest labor costs, and the concentration of industrial jobs in urban areas went unacknowledged. Although Puerto Ricans experienced increases in disposable income, this growth disproportionately favored the U.S.^[40] Furthermore, the financial sector encouraged local politicians to accrue debt, further entrenching Puerto Rico’s dependency on the U.S.^[41] Ultimately, Operation Bootstrap resulted in economic paralysis and a significant exodus of Puerto Ricans to the mainland.

Between 1950 and 1959, the consequences of Operation Bootstrap led to the loss of sixty thousand jobs in Puerto Rico, prompting a migration of 27 percent of the island’s population to the U.S. from 1950 to 1970. This migration was a response to the anticipated labor surplus created by the shift from an agricultural to an industrial economy.^[42] Historically, Puerto Ricans had migrated to work in sugar corporations or as tabaqueros (cigar factory workers), but the post-World War II Great Migration helped establish a significant Puerto Rican presence in urban centers, paralleling the African American experience.^[43] Unfortunately, this migration coincided with the decline of the industrial sector in the northeastern U.S., leading many Puerto Rican migrants to experience unemployment or underemployment and to rely on welfare programs. This contributed to negative stereotypes in media portrayals, depicting Puerto Ricans as societal issues or delinquents.^[44]

These experiences were not unique to Puerto Ricans; as American citizens, their struggles mirrored those of African Americans facing second-class citizenship, distinguishing them from Latin American immigrants. Ultimately, Puerto Rican migrants found common ground with other marginalized groups, often regarded as “other” based on racial differences, reflecting the complex dynamics of identity and dependency in the broader American landscape.^[45]

The tendencies and beliefs that led white Americans to distinguish Puerto Ricans, African Americans, and other minority groups based on their race were deeply rooted in the pervasive nativism—defined as “intense opposition to an internal minority on the grounds of its foreign connections”—that characterized America during this period. Nativism in the U.S. has historical roots in the religious movements of sixteenth-century Europe and has manifested in various forms. Structurally, it has emerged as an attitude against those perceived as ethnically “other” than the core national identity of “Anglo American,” which is often equated with being white, Protestant, and northern European.^[46] This notion was closely intertwined with the ideology of Manifest Destiny, which posited that the Western U.S. was the rightful domain of Anglo-Saxon civilization, further entrenching nativist sentiments that influenced immigration and citizenship policies.^[47]

As the discourse surrounding Manifest Destiny gained prominence, U.S. government leaders actively pursued expansion both southward and westward. Morales highlights that this expansionist gaze was heavily infused with racial language and attitudes, reflecting a worldview where slavery not only fueled capitalism but also enabled slaveowners to disproportionately influence U.S. foreign policy.^[48]

With the growth of expansion and economic interests came an escalation of nativism, which became a formidable force in shaping U.S. immigration laws. Starting as early as 1882, Chinese exclusion laws were enacted to restrict Chinese immigration, revealing deep-seated fears and prejudices. Liu characterizes the late nineteenth century as a time when nativist sentiments linked unemployment and declining wages to the presence of Chinese workers, who were viewed as racially inferior and a threat to white European American civilization.^[49] During the 1930s and 1940s, amid rising nationalism in China, Chinese students traveled to the U.S., hoping that education could help "save China" from imperialist Japan.^[50] However, even after the repeal of the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1948, the U.S. government-imposed requirements that forced these students to return home post-education to access financial aid. This policy shifted abruptly in 1950 when the People’s Republic of China emerged as a U.S. adversary, leading to concerns about strengthening the communist enemy, particularly among students in fields such as science and engineering.^[51]

Chinese exclusion stands out as an exception within the broader framework of historically more open immigration policies. Chinese laborers significantly contributed to the nation’s industrial expansion during the nineteenth century, yet their presence conflicted with the racial imperatives of Manifest Destiny. The Chinese Exclusion Acts, initiated in 1882, effectively barred Chinese and other Asian immigrants from entry and naturalized citizenship, a policy that remained in place until 1952. This exclusion exemplifies how nativism shaped Congressional decisions regarding citizenship and access to U.S. borders.

The evolving landscape of immigration and national identity in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries resulted in notable changes to immigration law. The Naturalization Act of 1790 established a stark divide between white and non-white individuals, a divide that continued to influence immigration policy throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The significant shifts in the racial, ethnic, religious, and cultural makeup of the immigrant population from the 1870s through World War I triggered xenophobic and nativist reactions.^[52] Political nativism peaked between 1917 and the onset of the Great Depression,^[53] with the hyper-nationalism of World War I having fostered an atmosphere of paranoia and suspicion that led to the passage of the Immigration Act of 1917. This legislation instituted a literacy test for all adult immigrants, tightened restrictions on suspected radicals, and excluded individuals from the “Asiatic Barred Zone,” which effectively barred immigrants from regions such as India, Burma, and parts of Russia.^[54]

The 1920s saw advocates for restricting Mexican immigration, as nativists who opposed Asians and southern and eastern Europeans labeled Mexicans an unstable “mongrel race.”^[55]This decade marked an ethnoracial realignment in American law and society, manifesting through immigration law. Before World War I, many Americans perceived the nation’s “race problem”—driven by nativist sentiments—in sectional terms: a “Negro problem” in the South, a “Mexican problem” in the Southwest, an “Asiatic problem” on the Pacific coast, and an “immigrant problem” in northern cities. However, as the demographic landscape shifted in the 1920s, race emerged as a “national problem” requiring a legislative response.^[56]

Federal and state measures converged to form comprehensive race policies that delineated “white” from non-whites, reinforcing the boundaries of citizenship. Just as the Jones Act of 1917 conferred second-class citizenship on Puerto Ricans, the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 imposed U.S. citizenship on Native Americans, stripping them of their native sovereignty. The exclusion of Asian immigrants and the categorization of Mexicans as “illegal aliens” further racialized their foreignness, marking them as permanent outsiders—a concept echoed in the Downes v. Bidwell case, which deemed Puerto Rico “foreign in a domestic sense.”^[57]

Despite being seen as permanent outsiders, the government recognized the utility of these groups as sources of labor, particularly during wartime. Shortly after the enactment of the Immigration Act of 1917, President Wilson granted exemptions to address wartime labor shortages, stating, “The Department is of the belief that the action taken by it to meet the real emergency… has been to a large extent the means of relieving the pressure.”^[58] Following World War I, agriculturalists across the nation called for the relaxation of immigration regulations, yet the rise of aggressive nativism resulted in more restrictive legislation that expanded the government's capacity to exclude new immigrants.^[59] In debates after 1924, the focus shifted to whether it was “possible or desirable” to grant rights and citizenship to Mexican people through economic considerations.^[60] Self-interest became central to immigration discussions in the 1920s, with race theorists and eugenicists advocating for partial exclusion but struggling to define which immigrants were deemed more or less desirable.^[61]

This framework of nativism and racial exclusion set the stage for the U.S. characterization of all ethnic minorities as “other,” which has also had an impact on nativist sentiments towards Puerto Rican migration. Puerto Rico's status as a U.S. territory, coupled with the enduring legacy of colonialism, meant that the same racial ideologies shaping immigration policies toward Asian and Mexican populations, as well as citizenship policies for Native Americans and other territories, also shaped perceptions of Puerto Ricans—framing them within a narrative of foreignness and inferiority. The implications of these attitudes on Puerto Rican identity and politics uncover how these historical prejudices continue to resonate in discussions about citizenship and belonging.

Since 1898, national identity in Puerto Rico has been shaped simultaneously by and in opposition to U.S. hegemony.^[62] Following the implementation of Operation Bootstrap, Puerto Rico gained control over its migration policy, but this autonomy was constrained by the enduring colonial relationship with the U.S. While U.S. citizenship facilitated Puerto Rican migration to the mainland, this citizenship was not fully equitable. Much like Native Americans and African Americans, Puerto Ricans were subjected to a colonial form of citizenship that imposed second-class status, exacerbated by the cultural and ethnic characteristics that marked them as "other." These factors created barriers to their full incorporation into American society.^[63]

Stereotypes have long depicted Puerto Ricans as foreign, primitive, and savage, a characterization perpetuated by myths such as accusations of cannibalism.^[64] This strategy of dehumanization mirrors tactics historically used against indigenous peoples by the U.S. Additionally, Puerto Rican language, such as regional dialects, and cultural practices, like espiritismo—a spiritual tradition rooted in the island's indigenous Borinquén heritage—were regarded with suspicion by U.S. nativists. These cultural traits, deemed foreign or threatening, were another means of reinforcing the image of Puerto Ricans as inferior. As a result, Puerto Ricans were often portrayed as “immature, childish, servile, unproductive, and dependent,” yet simultaneously “ungrateful and rebellious.” ^[65] This demeaning portrayal of Puerto Ricans shares common ground with similar nativist stereotypes of Mexican immigrants, who were similarly characterized as “docile, indolent, and a threat to American values,”^[66] with accusations of possessing a “birthright of laziness.”^[67] These stereotypes reflect the broader nativist sentiment that shaped U.S. immigration and citizenship policies during this period.

To fully grasp the subordination of Puerto Ricans, it is essential to understand these stereotypes within the context of U.S. colonialism on the island. The inferior status of Puerto Rican citizenship is not rooted in racial or ethnic inferiority, but in the colonial and exploitative nature of U.S. political and economic policies. For instance, the legal inconsistencies in the Supreme Court’s interpretation of the Fourteenth Amendment, as applied to Puerto Ricans, highlight the absence of a true commitment to equality or justice.^[68] Puerto Rican subordination was, and continues to be, a direct consequence of U.S. exploitation and domination. Legislative acts like Operation Bootstrap further entrenched Puerto Rico’s dependence on the U.S., fueling nativist resentment and reinforcing the inferior characterization of Puerto Ricans, both on the island and in the mainland.

Through this narrative of subordination, one aspect stands out: the resilience and rebelliousness of Puerto Ricans. The very traits that nativists viewed as negative—dependence, rebellion, and resistance—are in fact markers of a people who continue to fight for the autonomy and cultural identity that were stripped from them by U.S. imperialism. Far from embodying the inferiority ascribed to them, Puerto Ricans embody the enduring struggle for justice and self-determination, a struggle that is as much about reclaiming their dignity as it is about challenging the forces of colonial oppression that have shaped their history. In the end, Puerto Ricans are not the “immature” or “ungrateful” subjects of the myths perpetuated by nativists; rather, they are a proud people whose desire for autonomy and self-definition remains a testament to their resilience in the face of centuries of colonial domination.

^[1] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007.

^[2] Nativism in the U.S. has historically referenced political ideology and policies that favor native-born or long-established residents over immigrants, citing their movements into the U.S. as threats to American culture, jobs, and social fabric. U.S. nativist policy and reflected ideologies of white, Northern European, Protestant Christians.

^[3] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 14.

^[4] Ibid.

^[5] Ibid, 15.

^[6] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 15.

^[7] Cabranes, José A. “Citizenship and the American Empire: Notes on the Legislative History of the United States Citizenship of Puerto Ricans.” University of Pennsylvania Law Review 127, no. 2 (1978): 395.

^[8] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 24.

^[9] Ibid, 26.

^[10] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 44.

^[11] Cabranes, José A. “Some Common Ground.” In Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico, American Expansion, and the Constitution, edited by Christina Duffy Burnett and Burke Marshall, 39–47. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, 43.

^[12] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 45.

^[13] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 27.

^[14] Cabranes, José A. “Some Common Ground.” In Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico, American Expansion, and the Constitution, edited by Christina Duffy Burnett and Burke Marshall, 39–47. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, 43.

^[15] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 27.

^[16] Cabranes, José A. “Some Common Ground.” In Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico, American Expansion, and the Constitution, edited by Christina Duffy Burnett and Burke Marshall, 39–47. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, 43.

^[17] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 28.

^[18] Cabranes, José A. “Some Common Ground.” In Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico, American Expansion, and the Constitution, edited by Christina Duffy Burnett and Burke Marshall, 39–47. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, 44.

^[19] Cabranes, José A. “Citizenship and the American Empire: Notes on the Legislative History of the United States Citizenship of Puerto Ricans.” University of Pennsylvania Law Review 127, no. 2 (1978): 394-395.

^[20] Ibid, 396.

^[21] Ayala, César J., and Rafael Bernabe. Puerto Rico in the American Century. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, 30.

^[22] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 50.

^[23] Cabranes, José A. “Citizenship and the American Empire: Notes on the Legislative History of the United States Citizenship of Puerto Ricans.” University of Pennsylvania Law Review 127, no. 2 (1978): 397-398.

^[24] Ibid, 398.

^[25] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 78.

^[26] Ibid.

^[27] Ibid, 79.

^[28] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 80.

^[29] Ibid, 82.

^[30] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 77.

^[31] Ibid, 82.

^[32] Morales, Ed. Fantasy Island: Colonialism, Exploitation, and the Betrayal of Puerto Rico. New York: Bold Type Books, 2019, 29-30.

^[33] Ibid, 37.

[34] Diffie, Bailey W. and Justine Whitfield Diffie, Porto Rice: A Broken Pledge. New York: The Vanguard Press, 1931.

^[35] Trías Monge, José. Puerto Rico: The Trials of the Oldest Colony in the World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997, 83.

^[36] Ibid, 98.

^[37] Ibid, 85.

^[38] Cabranes, José A. “Some Common Ground.” In Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico, American Expansion, and the Constitution, edited by Christina Duffy Burnett and Burke Marshall, 39–47. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, 45.

^[39] Morales, Ed. Fantasy Island: Colonialism, Exploitation, and the Betrayal of Puerto Rico. New York: Bold Type Books, 2019, 32.

^[40] Morales, Ed. Fantasy Island: Colonialism, Exploitation, and the Betrayal of Puerto Rico. New York: Bold Type Books, 2019, 53.

^[41] Ibid, 56.

^[42] Ibid, 48.

^[43] Ibid, 46.

^[44] Morales, Ed. Fantasy Island: Colonialism, Exploitation, and the Betrayal of Puerto Rico. New York: Bold Type Books, 2019, 54.

^[45] Ibid, 46-47.

^[46] Barry, Colman J. “Some Roots of American Nativism.” The Catholic Historical Review 44, no. 2 (1958): 140.

^[47] Ngai, Mae M. “Nationalism, Immigration Control, and the Ethnoracial Remapping of America in the 1920s.” OAH Magazine of History 21, no. 3 (2007): 11.

^[48] Morales, Ed. Fantasy Island: Colonialism, Exploitation, and the Betrayal of Puerto Rico. New York: Bold Type Books, 2019, 20-21.

^[49] Liu, Qing. “To Be an Apolitical Political Scientist: A Chinese Immigrant Scholar and (Geo)Politicized American Higher Education.” History of Education Quarterly 60, no. 2 (2020): 135.

^[50] Ibid, 137.

^[51] Liu, Qing. “To Be an Apolitical Political Scientist: A Chinese Immigrant Scholar and (Geo)Politicized American Higher Education.” History of Education Quarterly 60, no. 2 (2020): 139.

^[52] Lee, Erika. “Immigrants and Immigration Law: A State of the Field Assessment.” Journal of American Ethnic History 18, no. 4 (1999): 89.

^[53] Weber, John. “Homing Pigeons, Cheap Labor, and Frustrated Nativists: Immigration Reform and the Deportation of Mexicans from South Texas in the 1920s.” Western Historical Quarterly 44, no. 2 (2013): 169.

^[54] Lee, Erika. “Immigrants and Immigration Law: A State of the Field Assessment.” Journal of American Ethnic History 18, no. 4 (1999): 91.

^[55] Ngai, Mae M. “Nationalism, Immigration Control, and the Ethnoracial Remapping of America in the 1920s.” OAH Magazine of History 21, no. 3 (2007): 13.

^[56] Ngai, Mae M. “Nationalism, Immigration Control, and the Ethnoracial Remapping of America in the 1920s.” OAH Magazine of History 21, no. 3 (2007): 14.

^[57] Ngai, Mae M. “Nationalism, Immigration Control, and the Ethnoracial Remapping of America in the 1920s.” OAH Magazine of History 21, no. 3 (2007): 14.

^[58] Weber, John. “Homing Pigeons, Cheap Labor, and Frustrated Nativists: Immigration Reform and the Deportation of Mexicans from South Texas in the 1920s.” Western Historical Quarterly 44, no. 2 (2013): 171.

^[59] Weber, John. “Homing Pigeons, Cheap Labor, and Frustrated Nativists: Immigration Reform and the Deportation of Mexicans from South Texas in the 1920s.” Western Historical Quarterly 44, no. 2 (2013): 174.

^[60] Ibid, 186.

^[61] Allerfeldt, Kristofer. “‘And We Got Here First’: Albert Johnson, National Origins and Self-Interest in the Immigration Debate of the 1920s.” Journal of Contemporary History 45, no. 1 (2010): 10.

^[62] Duany, Jorge. “Nation on the Move: The Construction of Cultural Identities in Puerto Rico and the Diaspora.” American Ethnologist 27, no. 1 (2000): 9.

^[63] Meléndez, Edgardo. “Puerto Rican Migration and the Colonial State.” In Sponsored Migration: The State and Puerto Rican Postwar Migration to the United States, 25–48. Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2017, 32.

^[64] Castanha, Tony. “Adventures in Indigenous Caribbean Resistance, Survival, and Continuity in Borikén (Puerto Rico).” Wicazo Sa Review 25, no. 2 (2010): 29–64.

^[65] Bonilla, Frank. Review of [Title not provided]. The Hispanic American Historical Review 75, no. 3 (1995): 519.

^[66] Reisler, Mark. “Always the Laborer, Never the Citizen: Anglo Perceptions of the Mexican Immigrant during the 1920s.” Pacific Historical Review 45, no. 2 (1976): 233.

^[67] Reisler, Mark. “Always the Laborer, Never the Citizen: Anglo Perceptions of the Mexican Immigrant during the 1920s.” Pacific Historical Review 45, no. 2 (1976): 235.

^[68] Perez, Lisa Maria. “Citizenship Denied: The ‘Insular Cases’ and the Fourteenth Amendment.” Virginia Law Review 94, no. 4 (2008): 1032.