Campus News
What’s in a name?
How Berkeley remembers the criminal Joaquin Murrieta
By Kerry Eskenas
From the February 2006 Print Edition
Winston Churchill once remarked that “History is written by the victors.” A given historical figure can be judged quite differently depending on one’s point of view. Joaquin Murrieta is no exception, and depending on which historical record one examines, his status can range from “vicious bandit” to “Mexican patriot.” One of the theme residences at UC Berkeley chose the latter interpretation in 1970, and it has been known as Casa Joaquin Murrieta ever since.
Legend holds that Joaquin Murrieta turned to a life of violent crime in response to racism and injustice in California during the Gold Rush of the 1850s. Although there are no court records or newspaper articles regarding the alleged execution of Murrieta’s brother after a false accusation, or the subsequent rape and murder of Murrieta’s wife, these incidents are remembered by Murrieta’s supporters as a justification for his criminal record.
According to William Mero, author of Joaquin Murrieta: Literary Fiction or Historical Fact, Murrieta is reported to have killed 19 people and committed a series of bank robberies before being hunted down by Captain Harry Love. Love received a reward of $5,000 from the governor of California for Murrieta’s death.
For more than 30 years, Casa Joaquin Murrieta has provided housing for Berkeley students with financial difficulties. According to the Greenlining Institute, which manages the residence, Casa Joaquin Murrieta’s mission is “to promote cultural expression and unity in the Chicano/Latino community,” to “train and develop multi-ethnic leaders in California,” and to “develop stronger inter-racial relationships among students.”
The second and third goals, however, seem to contradict Murrieta’s legacy regardless of whether one considers him to have been a force for good or evil. Even if one believes that Murrieta’s murder of Anglo-American civilians was justified because of a discriminatory and unfair Anglo-American government, Murrieta also murdered numerous Chinese-Americans, and committed crimes against other ethnicities. According to Mero, Chinese immigrants in San Francisco raised $1,000 to reward Captain Love for killing Murrieta.
A resident of the Berkeley co-op, Chris Natividad, responds, “If the argument is that a co-op for peace with a name like Murrieta is somehow a big paradox … somehow problematic … well, I don’t quite understand that part. I don’t think that the simple naming of a co-op ‘Casa Murrieta’ undercuts gestures for social progress.”
Yet Natividad continues, “Do I think the legendary figure [of Murrieta] is an appropriate figure to use as a symbol of a co-op which strives for multicultural sensitivity and awareness? Yes, I do.” He points out that Casa Joaquin Murrieta was recently changed into a multicultural co-op.
Another Casa Murrieta resident, Daniel Solis, believes that the co-op’s goals do not contradict its mission statement because Murrieta is “a symbol of resistance to oppression.” Solis also said, “It’s a good idea to have a co-op named after [Murrieta] because it brings to light the issues of white supremacy and the resistance to it, international warfare, and the racialization of Mestizos, and events of California’s past.”
Naming the residence after Murrieta clearly does not stop at honoring him as a historical figure or even as an inspiration for Chicano/Latino political activists in America as a whole. Natividad applies Murrieta’s legacy to issues at Berkeley, saying that Murrieta “went outside of the institutional channels for justice because there were no other routes available to Mexicans. In response to an Anglo-American government which was very hostile to Mexicans, a man named Murrieta empowered himself the only way he possibly could … through violence. Similarly, the UC campus is a hostile environment as shown through the under-representation of Latino, Filipino, and black students. In the same way, I believe my co-op was forced into existence in order to serve a minority community neglected and alienated in many ways.”
Elizabeth Mayorga, another resident of Casa Joaquin Murrieta, says that Murrieta “represents someone who does not allow himself to be victimized. He’s a Robin Hood–like figure.” Others may understandably question the appropriateness of turning a person who committed murder into a role model for those who respond to injustice and discrimination today. For Murrieta’s critics, his response to governmental actions could never be justified, especially since his victims did not commit any wrongdoing themselves. As for the Anglo-American victims, their greatest crime was to have been born into an ethnicity of which some members allegedly committed racist and unfair acts.
As for the rest of Murrieta’s victims, their status as members of other ethnicities makes it confusing as to why Murrieta’s supporters claim that he was simply responding to an oppressive government. It seems, in fact, that Murrieta could be compared to modern-day jihadist terrorists who claim to be acting against oppressive Western nations when they murder random, innocent civilians. This perspective on Murrieta makes it interesting to consider that a Berkeley co-op with the goal of “fostering social awareness” has raised this particular historical figure up as its idol.
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