Argentine Declaration of Independence

My name is Francisco Narciso de Laprida, and I am a lawyer by trade, but in the year 1816, I was something more: a delegate with the future of a nation resting on my shoulders. For years, our home, the land that would one day be called Argentina, had been a colony of Spain. Even though we had taken a big step toward self-rule with our May Revolution back in 1810, we were not truly free. We were like a child who had left home but still carried their parents' name and rules. We managed our own affairs, but Spain still considered us its property. The situation grew more dangerous in 1814 when the Spanish king, Ferdinand VII, returned to his throne. He had been a prisoner of the French, but now he was free and determined to take back control of all Spanish colonies in the Americas. His armies were winning battles elsewhere, and we knew it was only a matter of time before they turned their full attention to us. We could no longer exist in this in-between state. We had to make a choice: submit to the king or declare ourselves a completely separate and independent nation. That is why, in the early months of 1816, I began a long and difficult journey. I traveled for weeks over dusty, unpaved roads, heading for the city of San Miguel de Tucumán. It was a small city, chosen carefully because it was in the very heart of our territory, far from the Spanish loyalists in Buenos Aires and safe from royal armies. There, delegates like me, from provinces all across the United Provinces of the Río de la Plata, were gathering for a great Congress to decide our destiny.

When I finally arrived in Tucumán, the meeting place was not a grand palace but a simple, humble white house, known today as the Casa de Tucumán. Its modesty seemed to highlight the seriousness of our purpose. We were not there for show; we were there to build a nation from the ground up. The air inside was thick with a mixture of nervous energy and determined hope. For months, from March until July, we debated. The sessions were long and often heated. What kind of nation would we be? Some argued for a republic, where the people elected their leaders. Others believed we needed a monarch, perhaps even a descendant of the ancient Inca rulers, to gain respect from the European powers. We discussed laws, trade, and how to unite our vast and different provinces. All the while, we received powerful letters from General José de San Martín, who was preparing his Army of the Andes to cross the mountains and liberate Chile and Peru. He wrote to us with great urgency, pleading, "When will we declare our independence? Don't you see how ridiculous it is to fight a war for freedom in the name of a king who wants to enslave us?". He needed to lead his army not as a rebel general, but as a soldier of a free and sovereign nation. His words gave us strength and pushed us forward. My fellow delegates honored me by electing me president of the Congress for the month of July. And so, on the chilly morning of July 9th, 1816, the responsibility fell to me. I stood before the other delegates in the main hall. I looked at their faces, men who had traveled hundreds of miles, leaving their families and risking their lives for this moment. I took a deep breath, called the session to order, and prepared to ask the most important question of our lives. I formally proposed the motion: "Do you want the United Provinces of the Río de la Plata to be a nation free and independent from the kings of Spain and their metropolis?".

A profound silence fell over the room for a moment, the weight of my question hanging in the air. Then, not with a quiet vote, but with a passionate and unified roar, my fellow delegates shouted their answer. "¡Sí, queremos!" they cried. "Yes, we want it!". The sound was thunderous, a release of years of hope, struggle, and uncertainty. There was not a single vote against it. In that moment, we were no longer colonists or rebels; we were citizens of a new nation. I saw tears of joy in the eyes of men who had fought in battles and endured incredible hardships. A wave of relief and overwhelming emotion washed over me as I realized what we had just done. We had spoken our freedom into existence. After the vote, the formal Declaration of Independence was read aloud. Then, one by one, each of us stepped forward to sign the historic document, our signatures a promise to defend our new liberty with our lives. As the news spread from the Casa de Tucumán, the city erupted in celebration. The bells of the churches rang out across the city, and people poured into the streets, cheering, singing, and embracing one another. That day, July 9th, 1816, did not end our struggle. In fact, the hardest years of war were still ahead. But it gave us everything we needed to continue the fight. It gave our soldiers a flag to fight for, it gave our people a cause to rally behind, and it gave our new country a name and a place among the nations of the world. We had declared that we were the masters of our own destiny, and that powerful idea, born in a humble house in Tucumán, could never be taken away.