[News] Eduardo Galeano on Immigration, Latin America, Iraq, Writing – and Soccer

[Anti-Imperialist News]

“Voices of Time”: Legendary Uruguayan Writer 
Eduardo Galeano on Immigration, Latin America, Iraq, Writing – and Soccer

Friday, May 19th, 2006
http://www.democracynow.org/article.pl?sid=06/05/19/1324216

We spend the rest of the hour with one of Latin 
America’s most acclaimed writers - Eduardo 
Galeano. His works -- from the trilogy “Memory of 
Fire” to the classic “Open Veins of Latin 
America” are a unique blend of history, fiction, 
journalism and political analysis. His books have 
been translated into more than 20 languages. [includes rush transcript]


----------
We spend the rest of the hour with one of Latin 
America’s most acclaimed writers - Eduardo 
Galeano. His works -- from the trilogy “Memory of 
Fire” to the classic “Open Veins of Latin 
America” are a unique blend of history, fiction, 
journalism and political analysis. His books have 
been translated into more than 20 languages.

Born in Uruguay in 1940, Eduardo Galeano began 
writing newspaper articles as a teenager. Though 
his dream was to become a soccer player, by the 
age of 20 he became Editor-in-Chief of LaMarcha. 
A few years later, he took the top post at 
Montevideo’s daily newspaper Epocha. At 31, 
Galeano wrote his most famous book, “The Open 
Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent.”

After the 1973 military coup in Uruguay, Galeano 
was imprisoned and forced to leave the country. 
He settled in Argentina where he founded and 
edited a cultural magazine, Crisis. After the 
1976 military coup there, Galeano’s name was 
added to the lists of those condemned by the 
death squads. He moved to Spain where he began 
his classic work “Memory of Fire,” a three-volume 
narrative of the history of America, North and 
South. He eventually returned home to his native 
Uruguay where he now lives. His latest book is 
called “Voices of Time: A Life in Stories.” 
Eduado Galeano joins us today in our firehouse studio.
    * Eduardo Galeano: one of the most celebrated 
writers from Latin America. He was born in 
Uruguay in 1940. He was imprisoned and forced to 
leave the country following the 1973 military 
coup. He is the author of many books including 
“The Open Veins of Latin America” and “Memory of Fire.”

JUAN GONZALEZ: We spend the rest of the hour with 
one of Latin America's most acclaimed writers: 
Eduardo Galeano. His works from the trilogy 
Memory of Fire to the classic Open Veins of Latin 
America are a unique blend of history, fiction, 
journalism and political analysis. His books have 
been translated into more than 20 languages. Born 
in Uruguay in 1940, Eduardo Galeano began writing 
newspaper articles as a teenager. Though his 
dream was to become a soccer player, by the age 
of 20 he became editor-in-chief of LaMarcha. A 
few years later, he took the top post at 
Montevideo’s daily newspaper Epocha. At 31, 
Galeano wrote his most famous book The Open Veins 
of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent.

AMY GOODMAN: After the 1973 military coup in 
Uruguay, Galeano was imprisoned and forced to 
leave the country. He settled in Argentina, where 
he founded and edited a cultural magazine called 
Crisis. After the ‘76 military coup there, 
Galeano's name was added to the list of those 
condemned by the death squad. He moved to Spain, 
where he began his classic work Memory of Fire, a 
three-volume narrative of the history of America, 
North and South. He eventually returned home to 
his native Uruguay, where he now lives. His 
latest book is called Voices of Time: A Life in Stories.

Eduardo Galeano joins us for the rest of the hour 
in our Firehouse studio. Welcome to Democracy Now!

EDUARDO GALEANO: Hello. Hello, Amy.

AMY GOODMAN: It's very good to have you with us. 
Let's start where we left off in headlines, and 
that's the issue of immigration. How do you see, 
as you look from the south to the United States 
in the north, the issue of the wall, the issue of 
the treatment of immigrants in this country?

EDUARDO GALEANO: It's a sad story. A daily sad 
story. I wonder if our time will be remembered as 
a period, a terrible period in human history, in 
which money was free to go and come and come back 
and go again. But people, not.

AMY GOODMAN: You wrote about immigration in your new book Voices of Time.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes. There are some stories about it.

AMY GOODMAN: Could you read an excerpt?

EDUARDO GALEANO: One of them, which is quite 
short. It's a document on history. Scientific. 
Pure science. Objective. There is a religion of 
objectivity here, so I respect it. And this is -- 
you’ll see, you’ll see. “Christopher Columbus 
couldn't discover America, because he didn't have a visa or even a passport.

“Pedro Alvares Cabral couldn't get off the boat 
in Brazil, because he might have been carrying 
smallpox, measles, the flu or other foreign plagues.

“Hernan Cortes and Francisco Pizarro never even 
began the conquest of Mexico and Peru, because 
they didn't have working papers.

“Pedro de Alvarado was turned away from 
Guatemala, and Pedro de Valdivia couldn't even 
enter Chile, because they didn't bring proof of a clean record.

“And the Mayflower pilgrims were sent back to sea 
from the coast of Massachusetts: the immigration quotas were full.”

AMY GOODMAN: Eduardo Galeano, reading from his 
new book Voices of Time: A Life in Stories. We'll 
be back with him in a minute.

[break]

AMY GOODMAN: Our guest, Eduardo Galeano, one of 
the most celebrated writers on this continent, 
born in Uruguay in 1940, imprisoned, forced to 
leave the country following the coup there, 
author of many books. His classic, The Open Veins 
of Latin America, his most recent, Voices of Time: A Life in Stories. Juan?

JUAN GONZALEZ: I'd like to ask you, you've, 
obviously, over the decades now you spanned 
enormous changes that have been occurring in 
Latin America. You were yourself imprisoned 
during the military dictatorship in Uruguay. You 
know directly of the problems of Operation Condor 
and the other terror that spread across the 
continent in those years. And now there's 
enormous changes occurring in many of these 
countries, if not economically, certainly 
politically at this point. Your sense of how 
Latin America is changing or has changed in recent decades?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes, I think that all these 
recent events, elections won by progressive 
forces and a lot of different movings, is like 
something that's moving on and expressing a need, 
a will of change, but we are carrying a very 
heavy burden on our backs, which is what I call 
“the traditional culture of impotence,” which is 
something condemning you, dooming you to be 
eternally crippled, because there is a cultural 
saying and repeating, "You can't." You can't walk 
with your own legs. You are not able to think 
with your own head. You cannot feel with your own 
heart, and so you're obliged to buy legs, heart, 
mind, outside as import products. This is our worst enemy, I think.

JUAN GONZALEZ: Much of your writing is about 
memory. You say the great problem of amnesia in 
Latin America. Could you talk about that a little bit?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yeah. It's forbidden to 
remember. I’m not in love with the past, you 
know. For instance, I’m a very bad visitor in 
museums, because I get bored soon, and I always 
prefer a live life and in present days. But there 
is no frontier between past and present when you 
can revisit the past and make it alive again. And 
then it would be a good mirror to look at 
yourself and to understand. Perhaps it would help 
to understand your present actuality, your 
present reality. If you don't know where do you 
come from, it would be very difficult to understand where are you going.

AMY GOODMAN: Eduardo Galeano, you addressed the 
World Social Forum in Brazil, and on February 15, 
2003, on the eve of the U.S. invasion of Iraq, 
they asked you to make a statement for all, that 
you entitled "To Say No." What was your point?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes, it's true. I don't remember 
exactly, but I suppose I said that this was a 
criminal war looking for oil, that if -- I don't 
remember exactly, but it would be something like 
saying, well, if Iraq produces tomatoes or 
carrots, nobody would invade it. The country was 
invaded for other reasons, unconfessed reasons. 
The alibi was at that time that Iraq was a danger 
for humanity, the massive destruction weapons, 
the supposed complicity or participation of 
Saddam Hussein in the September 11 attack.

My mother used to say -- to tell me when I was a 
child, a little child, "Lies have short legs." 
Poor mom. She was wrong. Lies have very, very 
long legs, and they run fast, very fast, faster 
than liars. Because afterwards, in the United 
States, in Great Britain, everywhere, there was 
an official recognition that it was not true, 
that it was an invention, that weapons of mass 
destruction didn't exist and that Saddam Hussein 
had nothing to do with the Twin Towers tragedy. 
But anyway, there are lots of people still 
believing that it was true, and finding that this 
may be a good explanation of this absurd war. 
More or less it was something like this.

AMY GOODMAN: Do you think it's fair to say Iraq 
saved Latin America, that with the attention of 
President Bush on Iraq, we're seeing Latin 
America go in a very different direction?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Nobody says, hmm? I think it's 
true when President Bush tells us each day that 
we are suffering the high risks of being attacked 
by terrorism. It's true. And terrorism made the 
Iraq war, and they perhaps may -- today or 
tomorrow, I don't know -- invade some Latin 
American country. It's a tradition of the 
terrorist, imperialist power in the world. Who 
knows? We are not safe. You are not safe. Nobody 
is safe from a possible attack from this machine 
of war, this big structure we have built -- they 
have built, in a global dimension. This $2,600 
million spent each day to kill other people, this 
machine of killing peoples, devouring the world 
resources, eating the world resources each day. 
So this is a terrorist structure indeed, and we 
are in danger, so President Bush is right, I 
think. We are suffering a terrorist menace.

JUAN GONZALEZ: One of the enormous changes, it 
seems to me, in Latin America, has been, 
especially in the last decade or two, sort of the 
rise of indigenous demands for rights, whether 
it's in Chiapas in Mexico or Evo Morales and 
what's going on in Ecuador. Your sense of this 
long -- because you have written about it. You 
wrote about it in Open Veins of Latin America, 
how the native peoples of Latin America, for so 
long oppressed and kept down by the mulatto or 
the White elites of those countries, and how this 
change is having an impact on the continent.

EDUARDO GALEANO: One of the oldest traditions in 
America, all America, because we are America 
also. The name “America” has been kidnapped by 
the United States. Really, we are part of 
America, no? And so in the three -- in all 
Americas, from North to South, from Alaska to 
Chile, one of the most beautiful traditions is 
the identity between word and fact in the Indian 
tradition. I mean the sacred nature of, the 
sacred character of word, of language. And this 
is something not so frequent in the dominant 
cultures, but they have kept it alive, this faith 
on words, on the sacred power of words.

Bolivia has now an Indian president, Evo Morales. 
It was at first a scandal. Evo Morales, an Indian 
president, and an Indian who was not ashamed of 
being what he is. First a scandal. The scandal 
would have been the fact that Bolivia took two 
centuries to realize that it was a country with 
Indian majority in the population, and it would 
be perfectly normal that they have an Indian 
president as Evo Morales. But this was the first scandal.

Now we have the second, and the second scandal 
came from the deep respect Evo Morales has for 
this Indian tradition of devotion to words. Why 
are so many people angry against him? Because he 
nationalized oil and gas. That's it. He did what 
he promised he would do, which is a cardinal sin 
from the viewpoint of a system based on lies, 
that teaches you to lie each day and each night, 
even when you're having dreams or nightmares.

AMY GOODMAN: And your assessment, Eduardo 
Galeano, of the Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez 
and this titanic struggle he is in with the 
President of the United States, President Bush?

EDUARDO GALEANO: What I do think about it? No, I 
think that Chavez is being demonized. I mean, 
he's one of the demons. I don't know if he will 
be demon tomorrow or not, but he's nowadays a 
good demon, useful for an international war 
machine who is always hungry of demons. I mean, 
they need demons to justify the fact that the 
world is just spending fortunes in the military 
industry. So, weapons need wars, and wars need 
alibis, and alibis are demons, the evil forces 
which are our daily danger. And so they have 
invented that Chavez may be a danger for humanity 
and that he's a tyrant and he’s a despotic 
dictator. He won eight elections. It's strange, 
being a dictator, eight clean elections won by him.

I was an international observer in this 
plebiscite he did -- I don't remember now, but 
something like a couple of years ago -- which was 
quite exceptional in human history. The first 
time, perhaps, in which a president would say to 
the people, “Here is my post, my job. If you 
decide that I’m not a good president, then I’ll 
go out,” and people voted to keep him in power. 
Jimmy Carter was also an international observer. 
We worked together -- and Gaviria, and it was 
unanimous, the certitude that this was a clean 
election. Then I have never seen the case of a 
tyrant being so democratically confirmed so many times. It's strange.

Where does this hate come from? Perhaps -- 
perhaps, I don't know, because he's a real 
patriot. I mean, he's taking care of his people 
in his country. And patriotism nowadays is a 
privilege of rich countries. If you are the 
leader of a third world country, then your 
patriotism would be always suspicious of being 
populism or terrorism or something -- some other 
-ism -- I don't know -- terribleism, they may 
invent to falsify the love you feel for your own people.

JUAN GONZALEZ: I'd like to turn for a moment to 
your writing style. You defy classification in 
terms of the kinds of books that you produce. 
It's part poetry, part political analysis.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes

JUAN GONZALEZ: You don't follow a long narrative 
discourse, but you thread together pieces of a 
tapestry. How did you develop that style? Why did 
you decide to write in that style?

EDUARDO GALEANO: I never decided. It's something 
-- I’m written by my books. I mean, they write 
me, so I never decide anything. Well, I was 
always looking for a language who could integrate 
everything that has been culturally divorced 
from, for instance, heart and mind. So I was 
looking for a feel-thinking language, 
sentipensante, “feel-thinking.” It's a word. I 
didn't invent the word. It’s a word I heard years 
ago in the Colombian coast. A fisherman told me, 
"Hay gigrere en las palabras sentipensantes," 
when I told him I was a writer. "Ah, you're a 
writer." "Yes." "Oh." And he asked me if I was 
using a sentipensante language, a feel-thinking 
language. And so, he was a master. I mean, I 
learned a lot from this sentence forever. I am a sentipensante.

I think one of the divorces that has avoided a 
full integration of human condition is this 
divorce between our emotions and our ideas. In 
other divorces, separating journalists, for 
instance, literary journalists, saying, well, 
this is an essay. This is a poem. This is a 
novel. This is an -- I don't know what. And I 
don't believe in frontiers. I think that in no -- 
I don't believe at all in frontiers. And then, 
how would I practice the alguanas, I would say, 
the immigration controls between literary journalists? I believe that --

AMY GOODMAN: You don't believe in borders.

EDUARDO GALEANO: No. I think that when the world 
-- perhaps one day the world, the world, our 
world, won't be upside down, and then any newborn 
human being will be welcome. Saying, "Welcome. 
Come. Come in. Enter. The entire earth will be 
your kingdom. Your legs will be your passport, 
valid forever." And for me, this is true also for 
words. I mean, the same thing with words, 
persons, words. I really believe in the universal 
dimension of human condition, not globalization, 
which is the universal dimension of money, but 
the universal dimension of our human passions.

AMY GOODMAN: Eduardo Galeano, we have to break 
for a moment, but we will be back. Eduardo 
Galeano is author of, among other books, his 
latest, Voices of Time: A Life in Stories.

[break]

AMY GOODMAN: Our guest for the hour is Eduardo 
Galeano, one of the most celebrated writers in 
Latin America, born in Uruguay, lives there now, 
had to leave after the coup, was imprisoned for a 
time there, has written many books, among them 
his classic The Open Veins of Latin America, his 
trilogy Memory of Fire, his most recent book 
Voices of Time: A Life in Stories. You've also 
written Soccer in Sun and Shadow. The World Cup 
is coming up in Germany in a few weeks.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yeah.

AMY GOODMAN: You're a great writer, but it wasn't 
your highest aspiration. It was to be a soccer 
player. Talk about the significance of soccer.

EDUARDO GALEANO: All Uruguayans. We all want to 
become soccer players, and I could not, because I 
was terribly bad in the fields. In Uruguay, in 
the -- como se llama, maternidades? -- 
maternities, they're so noisy, because all babies 
are born crying, “Gooooool! Goooool! Goooool!” 
It’s terrible to -- you can't stand it. They 
should be more silent, more quiet.

And that said, it's our national destiny. Uruguay 
was world champion twice, before the first World 
Cup in two Olympic games: ’24, ‘28. Later the 
first world championship was in Montevideo in 
Uruguay. And later, we were again world champions 
in 1950, against all evidence, because Uruguay is 
such a small country. We are three million. 
Nothing. Less people than any neighborhood in 
Buenos Aires or Sao Paulo. And anyway, we were 
able to do so, and then it's a national identity.

All Uruguayans are experts in soccer. That's why 
when I wrote the book, trying to do with the 
hands what I was not able to do with my legs, I 
was scrambling in panic, because all Uruguayans 
know everything about soccer. They are soccer 
experts. And nowadays our real soccer -- I mean, 
our players playing are not exactly the best in 
the world. We are outside the next --

AMY GOODMAN: How does soccer and politics intertwine?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Everywhere, every day, soccer is 
a source of power nowadays. Silvio Berlusconi is 
the result of the success of the Milan club in 
Italy. And almost all politicians in the Latin 
countries have close relationships to not only 
president or politicians, but even military 
dictators. One of the first acts of General 
Pinochet in Chile was to become president of a 
very popular soccer team, Colo-Colo, because he 
knew perfectly well that soccer is a source of prestige and power.

JUAN GONZALEZ: Sort of like a George Bush with the Texas Rangers, right?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yeah. It would be the 
equivalent, yes. But, I mean that, you know, it's 
high business. Nowadays it's not only a source of 
prestige, but also big business in futbol -- 
soccer, as you call it here in the States. But I 
don't know why the miracle exists, and soccer is 
always able to give you a feast, a feast to the 
eyes watching it when it's very, very well played 
and a feast to the legs when you're playing it. 
And there are, there still are. I don't know how, 
but there they are. Ronaldino, for instance. 
Players able to play for the joy, the pleasure of 
playing, instead of playing just because they are 
obliged to do it, professionally obliged to do 
it. It's like an election. We are all making each 
day, being as we are, obliged to live life as a 
duty, but secretly willing to live it as a feast.

JUAN GONZALEZ: I’d like to ask you, you started 
as a journalist, and obviously journalism in 
Latin America has a long tradition of being an 
incubator for political leaders in Latin America. 
But your sense of how journalism has changed in 
recent years there? I mean, here in the United 
States, there's a huge battle over the increasing concentration of ownership.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes.

JUAN GONZALEZ: And I know in Latin America there 
are the huge chains of Venevision and 
Globalvision. How has journalism changed in Latin America in recent years?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yeah, there is a concentration 
of power nowadays on a world scale, in Latin 
America and everywhere, even here in the States. 
And this is not good. Not good news for humanity, 
this concentration of power, because it threatens 
to reduce the freedom of expression to the 
freedom of oppression. I mean, it becomes the 
monopoly privilege of a small group of 
enterprises, who are closing the big factories of 
public opinion in a worldwide scale.

But democracy now exists, and a lot of other 
independent spaces open everywhere. They have a 
narrow space nowadays. If you compare, for 
instance, a proportion of independent media in 
the ‘40s or the ‘50s, half a century ago, with 
the actual proportion, the present proportion, 
it's terrifying. I mean, it's terrible, the 
concentration of everything. But there are new 
ways, internet and so on, that are giving 
expression to the voiceless movements or the 
movements condemned to be sounding in campana de 
palo -- how is it? -- in wooden bells.

AMY GOODMAN: Wooden bells, yes.

AMY GOODMAN: In wooden bells. And these new ways 
are exploding in the contemporary world and 
opening, broadening the spaces for independent 
expressions. I now repentido, because I didn't 
believe in it at the beginning. I mean, I 
mistrusted it, all this internet and so on, the 
cybernetic new ways of -- no, I was against it, 
because I always had a strong suspicion that 
machines drink at night. When nobody sees them, 
they drink. And then, the day after, they do all 
sort of disasters -- but nowadays I accept that 
it's something really new and a source of hope -- 
because internet was born for military purposes, 
articulated by the Pentagon to program on a world 
scale their operations. And nowadays, it's 
serving also for military purposes and business 
and so on, but it's opening the spaces to 
breathe, respirar, that we need so much.

AMY GOODMAN: Eduardo Galeano, I wanted to ask 
another question about journalism, which has to 
do with what is happening to journalists in Iraq. 
The number of journalists who have been killed, 
it looks like well over a hundred now, Western 
journalists, photographers, videographers and 
writers, and particularly Iraqi and Arab journalists.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yeah, particularly. Most of them, yes.

AMY GOODMAN: Your thoughts about the power of 
journalism and the power of pictures, especially in a time of war?

EDUARDO GALEANO: In the categories of death, 
because, indeed, a foreign journalist is much 
more important than an Iraqi journalist dead, and 
this is because the world, the entire world, is 
still sick from racism. And so, we have citizens 
of first class, second class, third class, fourth 
class, and corpses of first class, second, third, 
fourth. If you can design a proportion of killed 
people, civilian people killed in the Iraqi war, 
most of them women and children, in proportion to 
the U.S. population, it's a terrifying sifra, numero.

JUAN GONZALEZ: Figure.

EDUARDO GALEANO: Figure. Half a million. It would 
make more or less half a million. Can you imagine 
the scandal? It would take millenniums to forget 
it. Half a million U.S. people -- Americans, as 
it’s said -- most of them women and children, 
killed by a foreign attack? Iraq invading the 
United States and killing half a million people 
here? Millenniums, it would take to forget it. 
But as they are Iraqis, we read each day in the 
newspapers, repeating, 30 people killed, 50 
people killed, 100 people killed. It turns to be 
a habit, something normal, as part of nature. And 
the same thing for journalists. It's sad to say 
it, but one Iraqi life is not the same than one 
British or U.S. or French or any other lives 
taken in the noble job of telling what's happening [inaudible].

AMY GOODMAN: How do you engage in your craft of 
writing in a time that is so difficult, so 
desperate right now? How do you clear your head? 
What is your ritual? Isabel Allende, who wrote 
the introduction to the latest edition of Open 
Veins of Latin America, she has talked about -- 
she begins on one date in a year, in January, if 
she ever begins a book. How do you do it?

EDUARDO GALEANO: No, I have no discipline at all. 
I learned to write really from music, a Cuban 
musician. He played drum, tambor, in Santiago a 
lot of years ago. He was absolutely magic. This 
drum was wonderful, playing music on earth but 
directly from heaven. It was so marvelous that I 
asked him, “Please give me your secret.” And he 
said, “Yo toco cuando me pica la mano.” Now you 
should shout at me, because I cannot say it in English.

JUAN GONZALEZ: I play when my hand begins to itch.

EDUARDO GALEANO: That's it. And I write when my 
hand begin to itch. I mean, I never give myself 
orders, saying “Now, you must write,” or “You 
must write about this subject,” or “You must say 
this or that,” or -- no. I leave it. Let it be. I 
leave it as something growing inside. And it's 
hard work. Each one of these short stories, a lot 
to write, have, some of them 20, 30, 40 versions 
before being published. It's very hard for me.

AMY GOODMAN: Can you read one last one for us?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes. "In the summer of 1972, 
Carlos Lenkersdorf heard this word for the first time.

“He had been invited to an assembly of Tzetzal 
Indians in the town of Bachajon, and he did not 
understand a thing. He was unfamiliar with the 
language, and to him the heated discussion 
sounded like some sort of crazy rain.

“The word tik came through the downpour. Everyone 
said it, repeated it -- tik, tik tik -- and its 
pitter-patter rose above the torrent of voices. 
It was an assembly in the key of tik.

“Carlos had been around a lot, and he knew that 
in all languages I is the word used most often. 
I. But tik, the word that shines at the heart of 
the sayings and doings of these Mayan communities, means ‘we.’”

JUAN GONZALEZ: I’d like to ask you, in terms of 
your -- you have a chance now, and you're going 
to be going around the United States to get a 
message to the American people. This is the most 
powerful nation in the world. We're probably the 
largest empire the world has ever seen. What is 
the role of the American people in the world 
today, and what should be their role, as distinct from the government’s?

EDUARDO GALEANO: Yes. I hope they may hear other 
voices. And it would help to understand that the 
world is much more than the U.S. I mean, this is 
a very important country, indeed. And I come from 
a small country. Most people doesn't even know 
where it is. But we are all important. We are all 
able to say something that deserves to be heard. 
And when I was living here in a period I had been 
during three, four months, teaching at some 
university, so on, I was surprised by the fact 
that the world didn't exist for the media, for 
the big media. It didn't exist. Almost no news 
about the world. And when the news came, most of 
the people didn't know what’s it about. One of my 
masters, Ambrose Pierce, one century ago said, 
“Wars are not so bad. At least for the U.S. For 
us, wars are not so bad. Wars teach us geography.”

AMY GOODMAN: Eduardo Galeano, I want to thank you 
very much for being with us, one of the great 
writers in the world today, his latest book Voices of Time: A Life in Stories.


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