Historical Character: José Martí

By serving others, I am saved. —José Martí

Among the historical figures often cited as examples of the Social 7, Saint Francis of Assisi stands out. He has been a symbol of realization through this characteristic. He made his character his flag and managed to recover fundamental values within Christianity in the Catholic Church. The way he did this has always sparked controversy among those of us who have studied his life in search of inspiration, as at times he seems driven more by his passion than by his virtue. Additionally, Claudio Naranjo recently introduced the hypothesis that he might function closer to the Sexual 7. He also invited us to consider the figures of Rabindranath Tagore and José Martí, the latter being the subject of this chapter.

José Martí is the shining hero of Cuban emancipation. The titles "Apostle of Independence" and "Teacher" are often used to describe him. It is not surprising, as he was a person of extraordinary dedication, as will be seen shortly. José Julián Martí Pérez was born in Havana, Cuba, then a Spanish colony, on January 28, 1853, to Spanish parents. He was the eldest and only boy, followed by seven sisters. Throughout their childhood and adolescence, the family had limited resources. As a child, he witnessed the mistreatment of Creoles, which sparked his indignation. He selflessly helped his father with agricultural work and, as a teenager, excelled as a student while also writing poetry and even a play at an early age.

In 1868, the Ten Years' War began, the first struggle for Cuba's independence, which ultimately ended in failure. In 1869, when he was barely sixteen years old, Martí became involved in an incident in which the military confiscated a letter he and some classmates had written, criticizing a third party for enlisting as a volunteer in the Spanish army to fight the independence fighters. During the trial, he declared, protecting his companions, that he was the only author of the letter. He was sentenced to six years in prison.

After a year, his father managed to get the authorities to change his sentence, and Martí was deported to Spain. Not only did he endure personal hardships, but the suffering he witnessed in other prisoners would never be forgotten. With one of the shackles that bound him, he molded a ring inscribed with "CUBA," which he would wear until his death.

In Spain, he studied and graduated in Civil Law and Philosophy and Letters. He courted several women and grew his love for theater. He wrote and kept in contact with Cubans and Spaniards sympathetic to the cause of Cuban independence. He lived austerely, earning little, and spent five years in Spain. Before returning to America at the age of twenty-two, he spent a few weeks in Paris, where he visited museums and even had an interview with Victor Hugo, the glory of French literature.

He soon settled in Mexico, where he was reunited with his family. He worked as a journalist and met Carmen Zayas, a Cuban from a wealthy family, whom he married in December 1877.

When Porfirio Díaz, a military leader, assumed the presidency of Mexico in 1877, Martí moved to Guatemala, where he worked as a professor of Literature and the History of Philosophy.

Wherever he resided, he won the favor of those he interacted with: charismatic, affable, simple, and intelligent without being pretentious, with a strong sense of ethics. He was always on the move, reading and writing extensively, engaging with the Spanish Golden Age, Greek classics, Shakespeare, Emerson, Balzac, and Baudelaire.

After the Ten Years' War, Martí returned to Havana in 1878, where his son, José Francisco, was born in November. He immediately focused on political action and soon assumed leadership responsibilities. In August 1879, a second uprising, the so-called Little War, broke out but ended in defeat within a year. Martí was arrested and again deported to Spain.

Within months, he moved to New York, staying at the guest house of Manuel Mantilla, a disabled man, and his wife, the Venezuelan Carmen Miyares (Carmita). In March 1880, Martí brought his wife and young son to New York. Although he loved them dearly, his commitment to the cause of Cuban independence conflicted with the attention and financial support Carmen required. After seven months, she realized that Martí chose Cuba over her and their son, so she returned to the island, where she received financial support from her father.

A week after Carmen's departure, Martí was elected to the Cuban Revolutionary Committee, where he quickly ascended to the presidency. In November of that year, María Mantilla Miyares was born, a daughter he held great affection for and referred to as his goddaughter. It is now certain that María was their daughter, and Martí and Carmita Miyares were emotional companions for each other.

In 1881, Martí moved to Venezuela, hoping to further the cause of Cuban emancipation. However, a text he wrote aroused suspicion from the president, the caudillo Antonio Guzmán Blanco. Martí, newly arrived, decided to return to New York, where he faced no such authorities.

In the 1880s, Martí gained widespread recognition across the continent through numerous journalistic chronicles sent from New York to important newspapers, totaling twenty across Latin America. His eloquence, diverse knowledge, and high ethical values captivated readers. He also published works of poetry, which critics widely praised, alongside a novel and translations.

In 1891, his wife permanently separated from him, and the following year, Martí, though hurt, left his positions as consul for Uruguay, Argentina, and Paraguay in New York and the presidency of the Literary Society to focus solely on his liberating mission. He founded, with other leaders in exile, the Cuban Revolutionary Party.

Between 1893 and 1894, using his reputation, Martí toured the United States and several countries in the Americas, establishing connections with former military leaders from both failed independence attempts, obtaining financial resources and weapons, and preparing for a new uprising. He believed this one should be swift, with minimal cost and, importantly, respect for the enemy.

However, the plan was discovered, and the ships intended for the landing of troops were seized. Despite this major setback, Martí convinced the Party leadership to continue. He sent instructions to Cuba, and the uprising took place in February 1895. Martí arrived in April and immediately contacted key rebel leaders. He was recognized as the brain, heart, and soul of the independence struggle. The military leaders decided to award him, a non-military figure, the rank of Major General—the highest rank—for his merits and contributions.

On May 19, in Dos Ríos, Martí was shot three times in a minor skirmish. Three years later, the uprising culminated in Cuba's independence from Spain.

Traits of Enneagram 7 and the Social Subtype

Although in the previous review you can clearly see, it seems to me, a set of traits of Enneagram type E7 and the Social subtype, this section will further highlight these traits and add information that will more clearly delineate that profile.

In just forty-two years of life, José Martí wrote hundreds of articles and journalistic chronicles, along with works of an educational nature. He was in charge of several literary or cultural publications, including one aimed at children. He translated novels from English and French, published conferences and political essays, two poetry books of great artistic repercussion (Ismaelillo and Versos Sencillos), a novel, and two plays. A book of poetry and a play were published posthumously, along with his diaries, letters, and other materials. The edition of his complete works exceeds 12,000 pages arranged in 27 volumes—a production that is, by the way, surprising.

He wrote with brilliance and propriety on topics ranging from criticism of American caudillos to the moral superiority of democracy (for and by the people), from new ways of raising cattle to floriculture, from New York Christmas celebrations to a day of boxing, from praise of Walt Whitman's poetry to that of French Impressionist painting (artistic projects resisted in those years).

Using the words of the Mexican essayist Enrique Krauze, it is clear that Martí was carried away by a voracious ambition to know. Curiosity, intellectual restlessness, and the diversity of his interests are characteristics reflected in his written production and numerous readings.

Generativity is a sign of health in this character. In his sickest phases, the person functioning as a Social 7 remains anchored to fantasies, castrated by their lack of strength to carry out projects and frustrated by their inability to express themselves in the world, unable to sustain the earthquake that challenges their narcissism by showing themselves. It is clear

that José Martí was able to overcome this obstacle and put himself in the world. In his fruitfulness, we can see the classic multiplicity of talents and the synthetic, panoramic vision that leans toward variety rather than depth. This way of functioning is more akin to that of a journalist than a novelist. An interesting note is that both Martí and Chekhov, as well as Tagore, stand out in literature for their short stories—an art form that demands synthesis and doesn't require great internal journeys of characters but rather shock effects and the ability to photograph reality.

On the other hand, testimonies abound from those who had the opportunity to hear him give lectures. They describe his oratory as persuasive, bewitching, and electric, in which his gift of words, charm, desire for admiration, and frequent seduction are appreciated. As a good social, his object of desire is the group. Lacking the strength of a wolf, he uses his fox abilities. The strange thing in a Social 7 would be to find one without social skills, since, as we’ve seen, that is the arena of their neurotic salvation.

Regarding seduction in its direct meaning, there is a growing consensus among researchers that it was less contained than was previously believed. It has long been known that Martí was sensitive to female beauty, that he had an extramarital relationship with Carmita Miyares (which both hid as much as possible), and that he exerted a certain attraction—perhaps involuntarily—on the Guatemalan María Granados, who was chaste and met a tragic end. This occurred during his courtship with his future wife.

However, it is only in recent years that many doubts have been cleared up regarding his paternity of María Miyares. In 2016, Cuban researcher Yamil Díaz pointed out that Martí had romantic relationships with several women during that time. In short, there are reasons to recognize him as a seductive and enchanting man who, however, repressed himself to a certain extent. This is another central point in determining the health of the Social 7: their intimate relationships. Little can be deduced from Martí's entire body of work about his intimate life, unlike, for example, Kafka's. Martí speaks of the world and for the world, and it is difficult for us to dive into waters about which he says little. Being able to live their sexuality freely would be a sign of maturation, while living it in secret and through infidelity would signal stagnation in their development. This character dissects intimate relationships to direct all their energy toward the world. Little do we know what Martí did with it.

Martí was a sociable individual who, perhaps stimulated by the mission he imposed on himself, easily captured sympathies and friendships. But at the same time, there are records of periods when he avoided contact with others and was markedly withdrawn, exhibiting the withdrawal often strongly present in the subtype.

Statements from close friends and the sheer magnitude and variety of his activities show that he was a formidable worker. For example, at thirty, he simultaneously held the position of consul, wrote newspaper articles, composed poetry, and maintained intense political

activity. It is said that he worked eighteen-hour days. For Martí, the mission came before pleasure or rest, as always happens in the Social subtype. Strategist, politician, lawyer, lecturer, journalist, teacher, poet, novelist, and playwright—he embodied the joy and sacrifice that came with dedication. It is a character deeply attached to the social realm, where he finds his reason for being. Disguised as sacrifice and dedication, there is his narcissistic compensation and idealism.

At the same time, he was generous, helpful, and particularly affectionate with children. For example, in a letter to his mother from prison at age sixteen, he wrote:

“I need nothing, except from time to time two or three reales to drink coffee. However, when you go without seeing your family or anyone you love, you might as well spend a day without drinking coffee. Dad gave me five or six reais on Monday. I gave two or three alms, I lent two.”

Generosity, cancellation of one's own needs, and austerity.

He was certainly very austere. He dressed modestly, and although he loved good food, he usually ate little. He wasn’t tall, was thin, and is believed to have weighed no more than sixty kilos. In his continuous transfers, he tolerated discomfort well. Frugal and ascetic, he was used to living with little or the bare minimum. It seems that the burden of responsibility, which was given to him as the firstborn, operated throughout his life. He could not refrain from the needs of the group and would always put them ahead of his own. This was a bargain for the community he served but a disaster for himself and his family.

Especially on the political level, he was not only industrious but also permanently collaborative. He sought to unite wills and cooperate in any task that could be useful. Initially, he didn’t seek leadership, but his intelligence, magnetism, organizational skills, and iron commitment made him stand out immediately and inevitably led him to leadership positions. In the mid-1880s, he had clear reservations about what he considered the personal excesses of Máximo Gómez and Antonio Maceo, military leaders of the two failed libertarian attempts. However, Martí persevered, so that in the final war of 1895, Gómez was appointed chief general of the independence army and Maceo his lieutenant.

Martí did not have the highest ranking position, but he was the one who exercised the main leadership. In other words, he was the sneaky leader directing the leader, typical of the subtype.

It never ceases to amaze, on the other hand, that the man who could not secure a decent income to support his family was such an efficient collector and provider of the considerable financial, logistical, and weapons resources necessary for the final uprising. His idealism came before the needs of his loved ones. His unique planning ability was

deployed for almost a decade, during which he convinced dozens of patriots, soldiers, and wealthy individuals to participate, traveling to different countries to do so, even obtaining a large sum from General Porfirio Díaz, president of Mexico, who had previously been reluctant. His wife and son, as deeply as he loved them, did not come first in his life. However, he was certainly a magnificent and disciplined organizer, a lucid foresight, and an ingenious provider in what he considered his life mission. To his great friend Fermín Valdés, he confided: “The truth is [...] that I only live for my land.”

He lived for his land to achieve freedom—freedom that, in the intimate and personal sphere, is one of the marked desires of the Enneatype and also explains its characteristic anti-authoritarian inclination. Lastly, if one pays attention to what is central and constant in Martí's behavior, it should be noted that he said of himself: “My job is to sing all that is beautiful, ignite enthusiasm for all that is noble, admire and admire all that is great.” He added, “Above man, only the sky.” Carlos Márquez, one of his main biographers, maintained that Martí, already in his adolescence, wanted to be good, wanted to be educated, wanted to be free.

Ezequiel Martínez Estrada, another prominent biographer, emphasized:

“He was animated by the Sermon on the Mount and by a temperament of metallic consistency and transparency of rock crystal [...] Conduct incorruptible and incorruptible, honesty, haughtiness, loyalty and frankness, decorum and probity; frugality bordering on asceticism.”

That is to say, an idealist, hungry for nobility and virtue, almost a saint or, as custom has consecrated him, an apostle. In the words of essayist Enrique Krauze, Martí embodied the sacrificial myth: He sacrificed his individual interests, his artistic talent, his economic well-being, and even his wife and son at the altar of the country. In his play Abdala, a creation from his adolescence, he had written: "Do you think there is something more sublime than the homeland?" He sacrificed his life for the greater good he considered superior: the freedom of Cuba. And to his misfortune, he succeeded. The Cubans are very grateful to him. He died in a skirmish at the age of forty-two.