Happy Birthday, Republic of Texas.

Why should modern Texans observe the events of [179] years ago? Why should they stop for a moment every March 2 to reflect on the meaning of Texas Independence Day?

The first reason is historical - this day marks the creation of the Republic of Texas. For almost a decade Texas existed as a sovereign nation. It exchanged foreign ministers with other countries; it had a national army and navy (though neither was especially effective); it maintained a national currency (though, to be sure, the money was never worth much). When Texas joined the Union in 1845, it did so as a nation and thus demanded rights not accorded to mere territories. By order of Joint Resolution of the U.S. Congress, Texas retained possession of its public lands. So large was the landmass of Texas, the same resolution allowed Texas to divide into as many a five states. In 1850 Texans did, in fact, sell a portion part their western holdings to pay off the debt incurred during the Republic period. Since then, however, they have been reluctant to part with even so much as an inch of their sacred soil - the resolution notwithstanding. Texas nationalism has proved stronger that political expediency.

The second reason is psychological, perhaps even spiritual. The Republic of Texas was an ephemeral empire. Like the spring bluebonnets, it bloomed, blossomed, and blanched with the sands of time. But also like the state flower, its scent lingers in the hearts and imaginations of every Texan. A moment ago I referred to Texas nationalism. Many outside the state would, no doubt, find that remarkably pretentious, but those who live here understand the truth of it. Texas existed as a nation for ten years; Texans got used to the idea; and nationalism is a difficult habit to break. The novelist John Steinbeck perhaps said it best:

Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession. Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word.

March 2 is a day to celebrate Texas distinctiveness. Now I'm not saying that Texans are better that other folks, but I am saying that we're different. And if a people consider themselves different, they are. March 2 should be to Texans what St. Patrick's Day is to the Irish. But what if you are a Tejano. Should you want to celebrate the day that Texas separated itself from Mexico. You bet! Even as early as 1835 Tejanos were distinctive from other Mexicans. The ranching culture that developed in Texas produced its own clothing, its own music, its own customs, and its own food. Gringos call it "Mexican food," but all one has to do to put the lie to that assertion is to eat the food in the interior - or try to. It is rather bland and not nearly as good as the Tejano food (we might as well call it what it really is) right here at home. We sometimes call it Tex-Mex, but in truth, it's all Tex and precious little Mex. It is found nowhere else on earth. How many things might we say that of? Tejano music is not Mexican; it is not American. It is Texan and is found nowhere else on earth. Tejanos also speak a variety of Spanish called Tex-Mex. But try using it in Mexico City, or worse yet, in Seville. Again, it is a unique language and is found nowhere else on earth. Truth is if you're a Texan - be you brown, black, white, yellow, or red - you don't rightly belong anywhere else. Steinbeck nailed that too. "A Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner," he observed. That applies to Tejanos as much as, probably more than, other Texans. After all, whose family has lived here the longest?

Even today it is common to hear natives claim to be "Texans first, Americans second." It is impossible to believe that they would feel that way had the Texas Republic never existed. There in Washington on that cold, windy day in March of 1836, delegates, both Anglo and Tejano, shouted to the world that they were different. Not Mexican were they, not American, but something else. They were, they insisted, TEXIANS. They gave birth not only to a dream, but also to a mystique. Not all Texians wanted to join the Union in 1845. Early settler, ranger, and Indian fighter, Robert Hall spoke for many of the old breed. "I was opposed to annexation," he groused, "and voted first, last, and all time for the Lone Star." The degree of Texas nationalism may be a matter of debate, but it is perhaps significant, that even when they joined the Union, the old Texians could not bear to part with their cherished flag. And even today, the banner of nation continues to swell over the Lone Star State.

--Professor of History at Victoria College, Dr. Steven L. Hardin