Nowadays the idea that a private individual from another country could turn up and effectively conquer your country seems highly unlikely, but this is what happened in Nicaragua in 1856.
William Walker was an American who organised private military expeditions into Latin America. He wanted to establish English-speaking colonies under his control. Walker and his followers were known as “filibusters”.
The term “filibuster” is Spanish and was used to describe the Pirates who raided the coast of South America in the 18th and 19th centuries. You can see how it fitted what Walker was doing. Its modern use in English means delaying a political process in order to stop it.
Taking advantage of a civil war in Nicaragua, Walker and a modest force of 38 troops, conquered the key city of Granada and took control of the country in April 1956. His rule was even recognised as legitimate by the then U.S. President, Franklin Pierce.
The Battle of San Jacinto took place on the September 14th 1856 in Hacienda San Jacinto, Managua, Nicaragua between 160 soldiers of the Legitimist Septemtrion Army led by Colonel José Dolores Estrada versus 300 of Walker’s filibusters. The filibusters were defeated by Colone Estrada after four hours of combat.
While the victory did not defeat Walker, it was the first significant victory for the legitimists and would prove to be the beginning of the end of the reign of the usurper.
A coalition of Central American armies finally ousted Walker from power in May 1857. He was arrested and repatriated to the U.S.
April 11th is a national holiday in Costa Rica that commemorates Walker’s defeat at the decisive Battle of Rivas, and the key role played by the national hero, Juan Santamaría.
One thing to say about Walker is that he was persistent. In 1860, he returned once again to Central America to take control of the region. He was captured and executed by the government of Honduras.
In 1909, French journalist-turned-entrepreneur Pierre-Francois Lardet returned from a trip to Nicaragua determined to recreate a beverage he had tasted there.
Five years later, in August 1914, Banania was born.
The arrival of the chocolate-flavoured banana powder drink came just as France found itself at war.
The following year, its mascot – a Black soldier wearing a red fez – first appeared on an advertising poster.
During World War I, 200,000 African soldiers fought for France on the battlefields of Europe, Africa and Anatolia. They came from French colonies in West and Central Africa. Many were forcibly recruited.
The African soldier on the Banania poster resembled soldiers known as the Senegalese Tirailleurs (riflemen), who wore a signature red fez. This military corps, founded in 1857, was given its name because its first recruits came from Senegal.
The tirailleurs were famed for their bravery. They were first sent to serve in the colonial wars in West and Central Africa, before fighting in World War I (1914-18). During World War II (1939-45), they served in France, North Africa and the Middle East. At least 30,000 tirailleurs died during the First World War, while an estimated 8,000 died during the Second.
Banania’s tirailleur is smiling, sitting on the grass with a bowl of the powdered drink and a rifle by his side. His exaggerated smile and facial features resemble the racial stereotypes popular at the time and seen in advertisements for chocolate, soap and shoe polish.
The poster’s slogan, “Y’a bon”, meaning “C’est bon” (this is good) in the simplified French taught to colonial soldiers, furthered the racist caricature of the cheerful but simple African. The company referred to its mascot as “L’ami Y’a bon” – the Y’a bon friend.
Against the backdrop of World War I, Lardet’s Mascot tapped into a mood of patriotism and pride in French colonialism. But it also helped to encourage public acceptance of African soldiers fighting on French soil, explains Sandrine Lemaire, a historian and co-author of several books on French colonisation. Banania wasn’t alone. The French authorities also sought to use images highlighting the loyalty and military qualities of France’s African soldiers through propaganda, postcards and news articles.
Senegalese riflemen rest during the First World War. These soldiers were the inspiration behind Banania’s first mascot [Roger Viollet via Getty Images]
“The tirailleur was an opportunistic advertising invention from Lardet … which made the consumption of Banania a quasi-patriotic act,” said Pap Ndiaye, a politician and historian, during a 2010 talk about Banania and colonial oppression.
Banania was promoted through children’s comics featuring the mascot. In one, he returns to his homeland from France, bringing two boxes of Banania to Africans dressed in loincloths. In an illustrated booklet published in 1933, he takes Banania to France before going to the West Indies, the Canary Islands and French colonial Indochina to set up banana plantations.
“In the 20s, 30s, 40s, Banania was everywhere. It had touchpoints in all domains – cinema, packaging, promotional items, notebooks,” said branding expert Jean Watin-Augouard in a 2014 documentary about Banania.
Meanwhile, between the late 1930s and the early 1950s, according to the sole book published about Banania’s history, the company tripled production. These were Banania’s golden years before Nesquik entered the market in the 1960s.
The mascot, which appeared in advertising, packaging and collectible items, such as toys, was popular throughout the 20th century because it reinforced French people’s pride in their colonial empire and their “subjects’” contribution to the war effort, says Etienne Achille, an associate professor of French and Francophone studies at Villanova University in Pennsylvania.
A Renault Estafette with Banania branding and a 1979 Tour de France sign [Creative Commons]
Shaken by decolonisation
But as the French colonies in Africa fought for and gained independence in the 1950s and early 1960s, Banania was also shaken by decolonisation.
Increasingly, Banania – with its slogan and stereotyped mascot – became shorthand for colonialism and racism. The tirailleur, in representing soldiers forced to fight for France, came to embody the injustice denounced by anti-colonial movements.
“I will tear up the Banania smiles from all the walls of France,” wrote Leopold Sedar Senghor, who became Senegal’s first president in 1960, in a 1948 poem dedicated to the tirailleurs.
A few years later, Martinique-born philosopher-psychiatrist Frantz Fanon made several references to “Y’a bon Banania” in his 1952 book Black Skin, White Masks, to denote how Black people in France are seen through the lens of racist tropes.
But, despite the criticisms, the mascot remained, albeit with updates.
In 1967, when advertising sold modern, aspirational lifestyles, it became simplified and geometric: a brown triangular face with cartoon eyes and a red rectangular hat on a yellow background. The slogan, however, was retired in 1977.
In the 1980s and 1990s, a cartoonish child’s face was introduced on some of the brand’s products, while others retained the mascot.
The ‘grandson’ of the original tirailleur adorns modern packaging [Clement Girardot/Al Jazeera]
In 2004, after Banania was acquired by French company Nutrial under a holding company, Nutrimaine, a new mascot was unveiled: the “grandson” of the 1915 tirailleur, who, according to Nutrimaine, symbolised diversity and the successful integration of migrant communities into French society. But his stereotyped features weren’t so different from his predecessor’s, with his ecstatic smile, white teeth and red fez.
During the last decades of the 20th century, the French brand never regained its dominant position and continued to lose ground to competitors like Nesquik. It had struggled financially while becoming less popular among younger generations.
“They had to return to the golden era of the brand to save the company. There was only one way to do it: to go back to the emblem. Very few brands are so connected to their emblem,” explained Achille. “This rejuvenated version effectively plays on the idea of superposition. When you see it, you immediately think of the old tirailleur.”
The design also caught the attention of writers and activists at Grioo.com, an online platform for the French-speaking Black community in Europe and Africa. “Can we tolerate that in 2005 we are represented as our ancestors were 90 years ago?” Grioo asked its readers, launching an online petition against Banania.
Graphic designer Awatif Bentahar reimagined the packaging of a drink that was part of her childhood [Courtesy of Awatif Bentahar]
‘Hurtful’ heritage
More than two decades later, the “grandson” still smiles on Banania boxes in supermarkets across France.
For Achille, Banania’s marketing epitomises France’s lack of public debate about colonialism and postcolonial racism. “Only the complete imbrication of the colonial into popular culture can explain why Banania can continue to operate with impunity,” he said. “In other countries, this would not be possible.”
A spokesperson for Nutrimaine declined to provide comment for this article.
Awatif Bentahar, 37, grew up seeing Banania on supermarket shelves and drinking it on occasion. She says, “The company hasn’t understood how their heritage can actually be hurtful to a big part of the population.
“The French ‘children of immigrants’ see the painful history of colonisation and the struggle we are waging today to be respected in a society that cannot help but refer on a daily basis to our status of ‘different’ French.”
As a graphic designer and a French woman of Moroccan descent, Bentahar would like to see Banania evolve. As a personal project, she created alternative decolonised packaging, removing the mascot and drawing from previous designs to include playful eyes and a smile.
“I decided to try to rebrand Banania, not because I hate it, but because I actually like the idea of what it could be. Brands are part of our lives, whether we like it or not,” she wrote on her blog.
“This one happens to be part of my childhood, and I would love to see it being on the good side of history for a change.”
This article is part of “Ordinary items, extraordinary stories”, a series about the surprising stories behind well-known items.
Aug. 1 (UPI) — A federal judge has ruled to postpone the Trump administration’s termination of deportation protections for tens of thousands of migrants from Honduras, Nepal and Nicaragua amid litigation.
Judge Trina Thompson of the U.S. District Court in Northern California issued her strongly worded order Thursday, delaying the termination of Temporary Protected Status until at least Nov. 18, when a hearing is scheduled to hear the merits of the case.
The ruling is a win for immigration advocates, who have been fighting Trump’s crackdown on immigration and policies seeking to mass-deport migrants in the country.
“The freedom to live fearlessly, the opportunity of liberty and the American dream. That is all plaintiffs seek. Instead, they are told to atone for their race, leave because of their names and purify their blood. The court disagrees,” Thompson said in her decision.
TPS was established by Congress in 1990 to shield migrants in the United States from being deported to their home countries experiencing problems, such as war, conflict or famine, where they would be put into harm’s way.
Honduras and Nicaragua were both granted TPS designation in January 1999, following the devastation caused by Hurricane Mitch a year prior, with Nepal receiving the designation in 2015.
Some 60,000 people from the three countries are currently protected from being deported to their native nations because of TPS, many of whom have been in the United States for decades.
Trump has attempted to dismantle TPS. In early June, he announced it was ending such protections for those from Nepal, followed by doing the same for those from Honduras and Nicaragua. The designations were to be terminated within 60 days — Aug. 5 for Nepal and Sept. 8 for Honduras and Nicaragua.
The Trump administration cited that conditions in each of the three countries no longer warranted TPS designation.
The move was met with litigation filed by the National TPS Alliance on July 7, arguing the terminations violated the Administrative Procedure Act by failing to follow the necessary review process rules while stating racial animus was the actual motive behind ending the deportation protections.
The next day, National TPS Alliance filed for postponement of the terminations.
“Today’s court decision is a powerful affirmation of our humanity and our right to live without fear,” Sandhya Lama, a TPS holder from Nepal and plaintiff in the case, said in a statement. “As a TPS holder and mother, this victory means safety, hope and the chance to keep building our lives here.”
In her decision, Thompson, a President Joe Biden appointee, cited comments from Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem about TPS and immigrants as proof of racial animus behind the terminations.
She said Noem had intended to end TPS without first reviewing any country condition reports and that she had expressed bias against the program.
“These statements reflect the secretary’s animus against immigrants and the TPS program even though individuals with TPS hold lawful status — a protected status that we expressly conferred by Congress with the purpose of providing humanitarian relief,” Thompson said, adding that TPS holders have contributed billion to the economy by legally working, paying taxes and contributing to Medicare.
“By stereotyping the TPS program and immigrants as invaders that are criminal, and by highlighting the need for migration management, Secretary Noem’s statements perpetuate the discriminatory belief that certain immigrant populations will replace the white population.”
Thompson also mentioned comments from Trump and other White House officials about migrants that show racial animus.
Trump has also sought to end TPS protections for other nations, including Afghanistan — moves that are also being challenged in court.
Sandinista commander Bayardo Arce arrested amid corruption probe and political shake-up in Nicaragua.
Nicaraguan authorities have arrested Bayardo Arce, a senior Sandinista figure and longtime economic adviser to President Daniel Ortega, amid an escalating internal purge within the country’s ruling elite.
According to Nicaraguan media, Arce, 76, was detained early Thursday morning following a raid by dozens of police officers on his home in Managua. He had been under house arrest since Sunday, reports said.
The Attorney General’s Office, controlled by the Ortega government, announced Wednesday it had launched a corruption probe against Arce, accusing him of “illegal transactions and negotiations” related to properties and businesses allegedly tied to state interests. Prosecutors claim Arce refused to cooperate or present documentation when questioned.
His aide, Ricardo Bonilla, was arrested a day earlier for allegedly refusing to “render accounts”, officials added.
The Nicaraguan news outlet Confidencial reported that Arce’s detention is part of a broader purge being directed by Vice President Rosario Murillo, Ortega’s wife and co-ruler, with the president’s full support. Sources close to the exiled opposition believe Murillo is consolidating power in preparation for succession, as Ortega’s health visibly deteriorates.
In recent public appearances, Ortega, now 79, has appeared frail and unsteady. He is reported to suffer from lupus and kidney failure, raising speculation about who may eventually replace him.
Arce is the third prominent Sandinista veteran to be placed under house arrest this year. Henry Ruiz, another historic commander, was confined in March. Humberto Ortega, the president’s brother and a former army chief, was under similar restrictions before his death in September 2024.
Arce and Daniel Ortega were close comrades during the 1979 Sandinista revolution that toppled United States-backed dictator Anastasio Somoza. After decades in and out of power, Ortega returned to the presidency in 2007 and has remained in office through successive elections that many have criticised as undemocratic.
The arrests have sent a chilling message across Nicaragua’s political landscape, particularly among veteran revolutionaries who once stood alongside Ortega and are now facing marginalisation or detention.
A retired Nicaraguan military officer who later became a critic of President Daniel Ortega has been killed in a shooting at his condominium in Costa Rica, where he lives in exile.
The death of Roberto Samcam, 67, on Thursday has heightened concern about the safety of Nicaraguan dissidents, even when they live abroad.
Police in Costa Rica have confirmed that a suspect entered Samcam’s condominium building in the capital of San Jose at approximately 7:30am local time (13:30 GMT) and shot the retired major at least eight times.
Costa Rica’s Judicial Investigation Organisation identified the murder weapon as a 9mm pistol. Samcam’s wife, Claudia Vargas, told the Reuters news agency that the suspect pretended to be a delivery driver to gain access to her husband.
The suspect allegedly fired on Samcam and then left without saying a word, escaping on a motorcycle. He remains at large.
Samcam went into exile after participating in the 2018 protests, which began as demonstrations against social security reforms and escalated into one of the largest antigovernment movements in Nicaragua’s history.
Thousands of people flooded Nicaragua’s streets. Some even called for President Ortega’s resignation.
But while Ortega did ultimately cancel the social security reforms, he also answered the protests with a police crackdown, and the clashes killed an estimated 355 people, according to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR).
More than 2,000 people were injured, and another 2,000 held in what the IACHR described as “arbitrary detention”.
A forensic technician works a crime scene where exiled former Nicaraguan military officer Roberto Samcam was killed at his home [Stringer/Reuters]
In the months and years after the protests, Ortega has continued to seek punishment for the protesters and institutions involved in the demonstrations, which he likened to a “coup”.
Samcam was among the critics denouncing Ortega’s use of military weapons and paramilitary forces to tamp down on the protests. Ortega has denied using either for repression.
In a 2019 interview with the publication Confidencial, for instance, he compared Ortega to Anastasio Somoza Debayle, the last member of what is commonly known as the Somoza family dictatorship, which ruled Nicaragua for nearly 43 years.
And in 2022, Samcam published a book that roughly called Ortega: El Calvario de Nicaragua, which roughly translates to: Ortega: Nicaragua’s torment.
Ortega has long been accused of human rights abuses and authoritarian tendencies. In 2023, for instance, he stripped hundreds of dissidents of their citizenship, leaving them effectively stateless, and seized their property.
He has also pushed for constitutional reforms to increase his power and that of his wife, former Vice President Rosario Murillo. She now leads with Ortega as his co-president.
The changes also increase Ortega’s term in office and grant him the power to coordinate all “legislative, judicial, electoral, control and supervisory bodies” — putting virtually all government agencies under his authority.
From abroad, Samcam was helping to lead an effort to document some of Ortega’s alleged abuses.
In 2020, he became the chain-of-command expert for the Court of Conscience, a group created by the Arias Foundation for Peace and Human Progress, a nonprofit founded by a Nobel Prize-winning Costa Rican president, Oscar Arias.
As part of the group, Samcam solicited testimony of torture and abuses committed under Ortega, with the aim of building a legal case against the Nicaraguan president and his officials.
“We are documenting each case so that it can move on to a trial, possibly before the Inter-American Court of Human Rights,” Samcam said at the time.
Samcam is not the only Nicaraguan dissident to face an apparent assassination attempt while in exile.
Joao Maldonado, a student leader in the 2018 protests, has survived two such attempts while living in the Costa Rican capital. The most recent one, in January 2024, left him and his partner seriously injured.
Maldonado has blame Nicaragua’s Sandinista National Liberation Front — which Ortega leads — for the attack.
