Cinco de Mayo: History and myth

In the process of writing this column, the calendar often serves as a starting point. Our religious institutions do a fine job of preserving the meaning behind their high holy days, but many other observances drift into commercialization or simple recreation. In those instances, I try to bring myself up to speed on the topic, and if I find anything interesting, I share what I have learned.

Such is the case with Cinco de Mayo. When the mood allows for a bit of self-deprecating humor, I like to announce that “Cinco de Mayo falls on the fifth of May again this year.” That line reliably earns a chuckle followed by an eye roll. Of course, the translation is straightforward, but many Americans assume that if we celebrate Independence Day by date alone, then Cinco de Mayo must be Mexico’s equivalent.

It is not.

Mexico’s Independence Day is rooted in the Grito de Dolores, issued on September 16, 1810, which began the Mexican War of Independence. After more than a decade of conflict, independence was achieved in 1821, with formal recognition by Spain coming later. That September holiday is marked across Mexico with parades, speeches, and family barbecues, much like our Independence Day observances.

Cinco de Mayo is quite different. It marks the Battle of Puebla, when a smaller Mexican force defeated a better-equipped French army on May 5, 1862. The victory did not end the conflict, but it provided a meaningful boost to national morale and demonstrated that the French were beatable. Mexican losses were relatively light, while the French suffered significantly heavier casualties. It was a David-and-Goliath moment.

The broader conflict, known as the Second French Intervention in Mexico, had its roots in debt disputes and political instability. Britain and Spain withdrew after reaching agreements, but France, under Napoleon III, pursued greater ambitions.

On May 5, 1862, Mexican forces achieved a stunning and unlikely victory over the better-equipped French army at the Battle of Puebla—a moment of national pride that continues to be commemorated as Cinco de Mayo.

The triumph proved temporary. The following year, reinforced French troops returned, capturing Puebla and then Mexico City. In 1864, Austrian archduke Maximilian I of Mexico was installed as emperor, presiding over a French-backed government.

His rule lasted until 1867, when he was captured and executed by Mexican forces, who then restored national control.

In that light, Cinco de Mayo carries an irony. The victory at Puebla was genuine and worthy of recognition, but was not a decisive turning point in the war.

There is a parallel to be found in our own history. Americans beam with pride about the Battle of New Orleans, a decisive and celebrated victory. At the same time, the War of 1812 ended in a draw at best, despite several failed incursions into Canada, and the battle itself occurred after the peace treaty had been signed. To borrow a sports metaphor, it’s a win with an asterisk.

Today, Cinco de Mayo is observed most prominently in Puebla and in parts of Mexico, but its largest celebrations often take place in the United States. The holiday gained wider popularity here in the late 20th century, aided in part by marketing efforts tied to food and beverage industries. In that respect, it resembles St. Patrick’s Day, where American enthusiasm and scale often exceed those found in the country of origin.

For those inclined to participate this year, it is worth remembering the historical roots behind the occasion. Raise a glass, if you choose, to the defenders at Puebla and to the enduring idea that smaller forces can prevail, at least for a moment, against longer odds.