“Cinco de Mayo Is a Battle Cry; And Why It Matters to Black America”

When people hear 'Cinco de Mayo,' they picture margaritas, mariachi bands, and Instagram captions with fake accents. But for me, a Black man, descended from enslaved Africans in a country still drunk on white supremacy having incestuous racist relationships, Cinco de Mayo isn’t a party. It’s a battle cry.

It’s a reminder oppressed people have always had to fight empires. And it’s a reminder when we stand up together, even the so-called “unbeatable” can be broken.

On May 5, 1862, the French army, white, European, wealthy, marched into Mexico to seize control and install a puppet emperor. They expected a quick, easy conquest. But they were met by poor, brown, Indigenous Mexican fighters who refused to kneel. At Puebla, they handed the French their (ass) first defeat in decades. (Remember Haiti?)

That wasn’t just a military victory. It was a moral one, a victory for the oppressed over the oppressor, for dignity over domination. And it changed the course of history.

While that battle raged in Mexico, the United States was in the throes of the Civil War. The Confederacy was fighting to keep my ancestors in slavery. They begged Europe, including France, for support. Napoleon III wanted to help. But Mexico disrupted his plans. That resistance at Puebla forced France to commit more troops and money. It drained their ambitions. It kept them out of our war.

That delay bought time for the Union to regroup, time for Lincoln to issue the Emancipation Proclamation and realize that the war could not be won without Black people, time for nearly 180,000 Black people to pick up arms and fight not just to save the Union, but to destroy slavery.

So no, we don’t celebrate Cinco de Mayo because of tequila. We celebrate because Mexican fighters struck a blow that echoed across borders and helped crack the foundations of slavery in the U.S. Their resistance helped make our freedom possible.

And now, in 2025, we face a new empire. A domestic one. Fueled by racism, hate, fear, and led by a man who embodies everything Puebla stood against: Donald Trump, son of a Klansman and immigrant.

Trump is not just a politician. He is a symptom of a sickness—white nationalism dressed up as patriotism. He has called for mass deportations, praised dictators, vowed revenge on his enemies, and sought to strip away civil rights protections for Black, brown, and queer communities. He is openly campaigning to become an American autocrat.

Let’s be clear: Trumpism is an evil empire. It’s a movement that wants to erase our history, muzzle voices, and crush the very idea of a democracy.

We cannot afford to treat this moment like just another election. We are in a battle for the soul of this country and our lives. Just like the soldiers at Puebla, we are outgunned, underestimated, and facing a ruthless machine. History has shown us: when people rise up with truth on their side, empires fall.

Mexico abolished slavery in 1829, decades before America. When our ancestors ran for freedom, many didn’t go north; they went South, across the Rio Grande. Mexico welcomed them as people, not property. That was revolutionary.

That’s what Cinco de Mayo means to me. It’s a rejection of white misanthropy, past and present. It’s a reminder that melanated people have always had to fight together to survive. Puebla wasn't just a Mexican victory; it was a blow against global white (melanemic) domination. It was our victory too.

And today, we must carry that same fire. We must name the enemy clearly: racism, fascism, Trumpism. We must resist not politely, but powerfully. At the ballot box, in the streets, in our schools, in our culture, with our dollar. We must organize like our lives depend on it because they do.

So no, I won’t be celebrating Cinco de Mayo with sombreros and shot glasses. I’ll be honoring the memory of freedom fighters, Mexican and Black, who faced down empires and said, “You will not conquer us.”

Their courage bought us this moment. Now it's on us to make it mean something.

The struggle didn’t end in 1862. It’s here. It’s now. And if we don't fight back with everything we've got against Trump, against racism, against hate, we risk losing everything they bled for.

Cinco de Mayo is a call to resist.
Answer it.