*“Nos vamos bien” is a popular saying in Latin America, used frequently by politicians. Translated, it means “Everything’s going well” or “We’re headed in the right direction.”

The big news in Puerto Rico over the past week or so (and really, over the past century or so) has been what the island and the United States refer to euphemistically as Puerto Rico’s “status.” Since 1898, Puerto Rico has been a holding of the United States, formally called a “commonwealth” or, in Spanish, the “estado libre asociado” (the free associated state). Puerto Ricans have U.S. citizenship and many—but not all—of the rights, privileges, and obligations of being American are extended to them. This, in essence, is what being a commonwealth means—living with a certain degree of persistent ambiguity, but with just enough benefits to ease general dissatisfaction. Puerto Rico is neither a free country nor a state; it’s something in between the two. For some people, this is acceptable and even preferable; for others, it is not.

Every once in awhile—and now is one of those times—the issue of Puerto Rico’s status reasserts itself as a matter which must, once and for all, be resolved. The island—which has one of the highest voter turnout rates in the world—has a plebiscite and Puerto Ricans vote whether they want to be (1) a state, (2) a free country independent of the United States, (3) or whether they want to continue in their current position as a commonwealth. The last plebiscite was held in 1998, and a curious thing occurred: None of the three choices won a majority vote. 46.5% of the population voted for statehood; 2.5% voted for independence, and 0.1% of Puerto Ricans voted for maintaining the status quo as a commonwealth. Curiously, 50.3% of voters marked “None of the above” as their option.

As if the matter is not complicated and strange enough, even if a majority of Puerto Ricans agree about the future identity and direction of the island, the winning vote would need to be approved and supported by the United States. In fact, it is the United States which has to authorize the vote to even occur, and Puerto Rico’s representative to the U.S.—who has a voice but not a vote in Congress, and who, as an important aside, is planning to run for governor in the next election—has been pushing for the issue to come up on the Congressional agenda. Last week, the matter finally did come to the top of the agenda, and Puerto Ricans of all political persuasions were waiting eagerly for every new headline to find out whether the U.S. had green-lighted a new plebiscite, potentially for as early as 2008. But Congress sputtered on the issue, and it was tabled altogether almost as soon as the word “status” passed any politician’s lips. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who pushed the committee responsible for Puerto Rico’s status to “come up with a consensus on an island status bill,” according to San Juan Star journalist Robert Friedman, then beat her own strange and hasty retreat, arguing that she herself had “no position” regarding Puerto Rico’s status. “I love Puerto Rico,” she gushed to journalists at a press conference. “I went there on my honeymoon. I go back every chance I get.”

Por favor, Nancy. Is that the best you can do? Really?

Pelosi concluded by saying that she would “never get involved in the argument,” contending that mainlanders could never really understand Puerto Rico’s history or needs. Less than 24 hours later, the island status bill, which had been approved by the committee that had been pushed by Pelosi to draft it, was dead. Senator Steny Hoyer, who “schedules floor votes in consultation” with Pelosi, told the press that he “would not put the bill on the docket any time soon, and [definitely] not this year,” with no reason given.

It’s true that most mainlanders don’t understand Puerto Rico’s history, much less its current needs. But if we continue to chant that tired refrain—that we can come to the island to enjoy and praise its beaches and its tropical drinks without trying to understand anything about those needs—then the status issue will never be resolved. That may be convenient for the United States, but it leaves 4 million people in perpetual ambiguity, wondering what direction they’re headed in, anyway, while everyone tries to convince them que nos vamos bien.

*

If you want to learn more about Puerto Rico, and, specifically, about its status, visit http://electionspuertorico.org/, which maintains both a Spanish and an English page.

Puerto Rico has three main political parties: the PPD (Partido Popular Democratico), the PNP (Partido Nuevo Progresista), and the PIP (Partido Independentista Puertorriqueño).  

You can pretty much understand each party by examining what it believes about PR’s status:

PPD: supports “enhanced commonwealth status”

PNP: supports statehood

PIP: advocates independence