What was written during colonial times did more than tell stories about the Americas, it carved their image. From the start, Europeans set the tone for future conquesrions, painting landscapes, lives, and bloodshed through their sole perspectives. Their words turned conquest into something noble, calling it discovery instead. Understanding at Columbus’s letter, then LasCasas, it is clear that narratives built power struggles as much as they recorded events. Expand on what that looked like
Open fields stretch through Columbus’ words, shaped by promises of untouched soil ripe for taking. Through quiet shifts in phrase, conquest wears the mask of discovery instead. Power hides within each chosen word, bending sight toward ownership.
From the start, Las Casas tears open the myth, showing conquest for what it was – brutal, unrelenting. Yet woven beneath his outrage is something quieter: a worldview shaped by Europe, its assumptions never questioned. Though voices of native people echo through his words, they arrive filtered, reshaped. What gets told bears the weight of who holds the pen.
From Canada down through South America, tales of “discovery” gave cover to conquest later echoed in history books. A myth stood where real encounters had been erased. What was taught often mirrored power more than truth. Hidden beneath those stories were voices pushed aside by design.
If we call an act “discovery,” does that cover up harm done? Who decides, then, what counts as real history?