César Chávez: An American Legend Remembered

César Chávez: An American Legend Remembered
By Eduardo Díaz, director Smithsonian Latino Center
April, 2014
“We need a leader, not a martyr!” pleads the brother of
beloved labor leader César Chávez in a memorable scene
from the film of the same name. The farmworker movement,
largely attributed to Chávez and the United Farmworkers
Union (UFW), was at a critical juncture in its development
when, in 1988, the leader goes on a 36-day fast to call
attention to deplorable working conditions and to emphasize
the importance of non-violent tactics. César Chávez, directed
by Diego Luna, opened in major theaters on March 28th.
Leader or martyr? Many of us believe César Chávez to be both, which has
elevated him to iconic status. He was also a visionary, humble servant and, as the film
portrays in a compelling subplot, a caring father. As a Chicano activist, who spent
many hours in the early 70s manning picket lines in support of the UFW’s boycott of
non-union grapes and lettuce, and who also welcomed Chávez into his home, the man
looms larger than life in mine. And, yet, we know that biographic films can prove
troublesome because they sometimes tend to glorify the subject in ways that are
schmaltzy and sometimes error prone. I think the film got it mostly right. I found it to be
a well-crafted, straightforward account of his life’s work.
However, there is one aspect that troubled me. We know that Filipino
farmworkers were the first to organize, and that Chávez really depended on them to
start and build the UFW. Without Filipino audacity and commitment, some argue,
Chávez would not have been successful. And, while there is a role for Larry Itliong, one
of the most prominent Filipino UFW leaders (played by Darion Basco), the film simply
doesn’t do justice to the Filipino role in the farmworker movement, nor do we get a feel
for how they lived side-by-side with Mexican and Chicano farmworkers. Notably, the
film doesn’t mention Philip Vera Cruz, another Filipino leader who was a Vice President
of the UFW, but resigned when Chávez accepted, for unfathomable reasons, an
invitation to visit the Philippines by the detested and widely condemned dictator
Ferdinand Marcos. I have a portrait of Vera Cruz hanging in my home, so I can’t hide
my disappointment. Like Chávez, filmmaker Luna made some mistakes.
“We don’t negotiate with children,” snipes the scion of the Bogdonovitch family,
during a dinner meeting with other big growers, emphatically disagreeing with the
proposal to bargain with the UFW. Played elegantly by John Malkovich, the senior
Bogdonovitch represents the kind of racist-inspired and mean-spirited corporate
avarice that would eventually backfire and force a key cadre of growers to negotiate a
settlement with the UFW. While it is important to celebrate just labor victories, it is also
critical to recognize that Bognonovitch represents a previous incarnation of today’s
corporate archetype who too often colludes with others to export jobs, secure lower
labor costs, oppose labor organizing, and otherwise ensure worker exploitation and
higher profits. The film depicts a gleeful Chávez tossing a box of Bogdonovitch grapes
into the River Thames after he successfully wins British labor union support for the
UFW’s cause, precipitating colluding California farmers to finally sit down at the
bargaining table, much to the chagrin of then-Governor, Ronald Reagan, who is
interviewed in the film, calling the UFW huelga (strike) “immoral.”
And, the struggle continues. An article in the New York Times, published the
same weekend as the film’s release, details California growers’ boiling impatience with
Congress’ failure to pass comprehensive immigration reform. They are concerned not
because they have suddenly become bleeding heart liberals—on the contrary—most
are died-in-the-wool conservative Republicans. They are up in arms because reform is
necessary to secure a consistent labor pool, which is critical to achieving their profit
margins. As reported, powerful grower associations are actually threatening to withhold
financial support for key Republican candidates unless they change their tunes. We’ll
see how effective this strategy is in turning the political tide.
The film produces plenty of emotional swings—for me—no more heartfelt than
the series of interactions with his eldest son, who bears the brunt of high school
harassment, attributable to his father’s high profile and demonization by the controlling
powers that be. He is also resentful of his father’s long absences and apparent
indifference. Despite Chávez’s concerted efforts, estrangement occurs, but one,
especially a father of grown children like me, is left hopeful, and a tearful mess, when
we see the son reading a thoughtful and soulful letter of amends from his hero father. It
is this depiction of Chávez as fallible human figure that makes the film all the more
powerful and successful.