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The arguments pro and con are not easily grasped by most Americans, who do not quite understand what it feels like to be a U.S. citizen from Puerto Rico. While living on the mainland, both Calderon and Colon could vote in federal elections. They lost that right by going home; the island elects one delegate to the House of Representatives, who can vote only in committee. Moving back also means a lower level of federal benefits. But there are some advantages. While in the States, the two men had to pay federal income tax; on the island they pay none.
Then there is the issue of Section 936 of the Internal Revenue Code, which permits U.S. companies to shelter the profits of their Puerto Rican subsidiaries. Now worth about $3.4 billion a year, this huge tax break was intended to create industry and jobs. To the statehooders, both the commonwealth and its chief economic prop, Section 936, are obsolete because they no longer produce much economic growth. Rossello argues that Puerto Rico can go forward only with "full participation, with all the rights, all the privileges but also all the responsibilities" of statehood. While he makes the transition sound easy, his opponents predict corruption of Puerto Rico's soul and destruction of its economy. They also argue that the vote is moot in any case: the U.S. Congress will find a way to reject a poor, Spanish-speaking land that would enter the Union with a secessionist faction. If statehood wins with only a small majority, Congress may find ways to delay confronting the question of union for years.
Though they differ on some policies, advocates of independence and the status quo agree on one critical point: survival of Puerto Rico's culture depends on political space between their island and the U.S. One of the commonwealthers' best slogans promises voters "the best of both worlds" if they retain the present system with only minor changes -- still more federal assistance, for example. Celeste Benitez, who directs the Populares' campaign to preserve the commonwealth status, argues, "We are a people with our own language, our own culture. This plebiscite is about preserving that identity."
Cultural colonialism has been a touchy issue ever since Governors appointed by Washington before World War II attempted to impose English through the school system. (Spain ceded the island to the U.S. after the Spanish-American War of 1898.) "There was resentment, trauma, about being forced to learn all subjects in English years ago," says Ricardo Alegria, executive director of the Center for Advanced Studies in San Juan. Those memories, he speculates, cause many to resist learning English even today. Insular identity remains sacrosanct. Last week, after Madonna caressed herself with the Puerto Rican flag during a San Juan concert, politicians of all stripes raised angry criticism. Local clerics even pressed a campaign of hanging black ribbons on trees in protest.
Still, Rossello dismisses the cultural-colonialism argument as an irrelevant scare tactic. The U.S. is becoming more tolerant of diversity rather than less, he says, and Puerto Ricans will be as free to embrace their own traditions as they are today.