Inspired by the nationwide Artists Call: Against U.S. Intervention in Central America, a movement begun in New York City in 1983, Chicana/o artists Ray Patlán and Patricia Rodríguez embarked on a journey to bring attention to the civil wars of El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua by recruiting local muralists to paint murals on the political subject. This article analyzes two of PLACA’s murals, exploring their unique depiction of imperial encounters between the United States and Central America through visual imagery. These murals embody what I term “US-Central American solidarity murals,” which are murals that represent the artists’ solidarity with the Central American people and their political struggles, as created in San Francisco during this period and thereafter.Footnote 1 The term “US-Central American” refers to individuals or communities in the United States who have ancestral roots or cultural ties to countries in Central America, which encompasses Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, and Belize. The term also includes people of Central American descent living in the United States, but may also refer to cultural, social, or political phenomena involving or affecting both the United States and Central America. I introduce the term “US-Central American solidarity murals” to highlight and contribute to the expanding field of US-Central American studies and to deepen our understanding of what solidarity and cultural activism with Central America entail, especially when shaped by activists and artists who were residing on North American soil. Moreover, these murals continue to live and breathe in San Francisco’s Mission District; they are, after all, public yet ephemeral fixtures that live(d) on walls and continue living on through photographs and public memory.Footnote 2

US-Central American solidarity murals broadly depict themes related to social justice, human rights, immigration, and solidarity with communities affected by political violence, economic instability, and social inequality in Central American countries. They serve as visual representations of cross-border solidarity efforts, advocating for awareness, empathy, and support for the Central American diaspora and their ongoing struggles. These murals are crafted by artists from both Central American and non-Central American backgrounds. In other words, the artists who create US-Central American solidarity murals are pan-ethnic and come from diverse ethnicities, such as Latinx, Chicanx, and White-Anglo, Central American, and US-Central American.

I contend that the emergence of US-Central American solidarity murals in San Francisco is the result of collaborative artistic endeavors and political dialogues between North Americans and Central Americans. This perspective challenges narratives that categorize these murals as mere local or national art forms, instead highlighting their role as dynamic platforms for cross-cultural and transnational exchange. The international roots of these influences, emerging from solidarity with diasporic Central Americans who migrated in large numbers during the civil wars, emphasize the murals’ importance in supporting community-driven efforts, broadening our understanding of the dynamics of transnational murals like those reflecting US-Central American solidarity.

The concept of solidarity encompasses a broad spectrum that links collective responsibility with cooperative efforts toward common political aims. When expressed as a political stance, embodying solidarity enables groups from diverse geographical or cultural backgrounds to position themselves within larger movements, fostering alignment against formidable entities and influential actors. The notion of solidarity further encapsulates relationships in which one group actively opposes the exploitation or injustices faced by another, thereby advocating for mutual support and resistance. By the later twentieth century, the meaning of solidarity had shifted, becoming increasingly associated with international commitments to other groups, especially those protesting repressive governments.Footnote 3 Understanding this evolved concept of solidarity is crucial for contextualizing the creation of the PLACA murals. This understanding underscores the murals’ significance in fostering international and intercultural dialogues, bolstering collective efforts to combat injustices. Moreover, it highlights the murals’ activist stance, serving as a platform for criticizing US intervention in Central America directly within the United States, particularly in San Francisco.

The increase in the number of unaccompanied Central American children arriving at the US-Mexico border between 2014 and 2017, as well as the migrant caravans between 2017 and 2023, have returned the spotlight to the topic of Central American migration in US immigration policy debates. There is a growing trend in anti-Central American policies, and the US media has historically contributed to forms of erasure by perpetuating threatening stereotypes about Central Americans. As noted by Karina Alma (2024), “each decade has reiterated different aspects of the same system” (2024, p. 158). Alma points out that, from the 1980s to the 2000s, Central Americans were largely invisible within this nation’s imagined community, which partly explains why their increasing visibility now seems so surprising (p. 158). Therefore, revisiting the history and impact of PLACA emphasizes how murals played a role in community-building, with muralists from various ethnic backgrounds coming together to represent the struggles of Central Americans visually and publicly. The persistent depiction of Central Americans through US-Central American solidarity murals in San Francisco’s Mission District illustrates a legacy made all the more significant by the continued migration of Central Americans to the San Francisco Bay Area following the civil wars. While the scope of this article does not extend to the latest US-Central American solidarity murals in the Mission District, it is worth noting that artists of various ethnicities and backgrounds have continued to produce US-Central American solidarity murals since the late 1970s. The 1984 PLACA murals and subsequent Central American murals produced in this alley persist as symbols of Central American identity and visibility amid the enduring crisis, as migrants from the isthmus continue to undertake hazardous journeys to the United States in pursuit of improving their lives.

Despite the substantial number of US-Central American solidarity murals created in the Mission District in the 1980s, their importance is frequently overlooked, due to the narrow focus on Chicana/o murals in previous mural scholarship. At the same time, the significance of Chicana/o murals alongside Central American murals is recognized in this analysis, enriching the comprehension of Latinx art murals and underscoring the diversity of murals in the United States. The article establishes a fresh narrative on US-Central American solidarity murals—a narrative that, although present since the late 1970s, has not been fully recognized.

PLACA’s formation and imperial encounters

Patlán and Rodríguez envisioned transforming Balmy Street, located in San Francisco’s Mission District, into a place where artists could represent the dual theme of “Peace in Central America and the celebration of Central American culture” via murals. They decided to name both the project and the collective PLACA, which has multiple meanings in Spanish, including “badge,” “nameplate,” “license plate,” or “plaque.” Yet PLACA’s aims aligned them more closely with slang meanings of the term: “leaving your mark” or “graffiti tag,” also known as a placazo in Spanish. To be clear, PLACA is not an acronym: the group intentionally capitalizes the entire word in their manifesto.Footnote 4 Eventually, PLACA grew to encompass twenty-seven murals created by thirty-six artists, completely transforming Balmy Alley into what Tim Drescher calls an “outdoor gallery” (Drescher 1994).

PLACA’s distinctive demonstration of solidarity emerges within the broader framework of the growing Central American solidarity movement (CASM) that spread across the United States in the 1980s, which encompassed initiatives like the Sanctuary Movement.Footnote 5 Since only a few artists associated with PLACA were of Central American heritage, the initiative’s solidarity among groups of various national origin within the United States highlights the importance of recognizing not only its transnational but also pan-ethnic solidarity.Footnote 6 As Carol Gould (2007) defines it, transnational solidarity involves an affective element combined with an effort to understand the specifics of others’ concrete situations and to imaginatively construct for oneself their feelings and needs. PLACA collaborated to enhance community understanding of US involvement in Central America by using their murals to visually represent this issue.

PLACA enunciated a collective visual expression of solidarity from North America to Central America, producing more than twenty-seven murals—a scale of representation previously unseen in US murals within the context of the Central American solidarity movement. This unique form of US-Central American solidarity mural stood unparalleled in its scope and impact. PLACA’s murals showcased a form of cultural and visual solidarity that challenged the unequal power dynamics typically associated with north–south solidarity. It presented an alternative visual approach to representing and protesting US intervention in Central America, distinct from news media, journalism, and photojournalism; these were public murals painted in an alley. Street art functions in public spaces as liberated art, not confined by galleries or capitalism. Furthermore, according to Jessica Stites Mor and Maria del Carmen Suescun Pozas (2018) and Randall Collins (2001), the cultural production and art emerging from solidarity initiatives play a crucial role in framing social issues and shaping discourse by providing visual and performative spaces that can reshape and redefine individual identities. Cultural production and art activism emerging from solidarity initiatives hold the power to strengthen collective attention and make significant contributions to the advancement and eventual success of a movement (Stites Mor and del Carmen Suescun Pozas 2018).

PLACA artists strategically depicted “imperial encounters” in their murals to raise awareness of US intervention in Central American liberation movements. Imperial encounters refer to asymmetrical interactions wherein one entity constructs and enforces “realities” while the other entity lacks equal agency (Doty 1996). Although not every artist depicted imperial encounters per se, a significant number of the murals highlighted such interactions. The US engagement in Central American politics has often taken forms that are characteristic of imperial ambition. The following are a few condensed examples of US intervention in Central America.

US support of Panama’s secession from Colombia in 1903 was substantially motivated by the desire to construct and control the Panama Canal—a project completed in 1914 that significantly bolstered US naval and commercial capabilities (Wicks 1980). The 1954 intervention in Guatemala also highlights the extent of US involvement, in which the CIA-led Operation PBSUCCESS deposed the democratically elected government of President Jacobo Árbenz because of perceived threats to US business interests, namely those of the United Fruit Company, and ushered in an era of political turmoil in Guatemala (Kane 2019). Further, during the 1980s, the Reagan administration’s clandestine support for the Nicaraguan Contras, who opposed the socialist Sandinista government, exemplified the Cold War–era strategy of containing communism, resulting in significant controversy and, eventually, exposing illicit activities in the Iran-Contra Affair (Encyclopedia Britannica). A connection can be drawn here regarding the overt US support for dictatorships throughout Latin America. To maintain a tighter grip on Latin American nations, particularly during times of revolutionary upheaval, the United States frequently backed dictatorships by providing military assistance. One notable example is the establishment of the School of the Americas (SOA) in 1946, in Fort Benning, Georgia. At this institution, military personnel from Latin American regimes supporting US interests were trained in coercion techniques and combat strategies. The purpose was to quell communist movements in Latin America, thereby sustaining dictatorships amenable to the US and advancing the objectives of US businesses. Consequently, the SOA functioned to reinforce the power of favorable governments in targeted countries by training their militaries to violently suppress revolutions. The activities of the SOA exemplified the US strategy of extending its hegemony in the region and impeding the progress of leftist and communist initiatives.

Imperial encounters are a by-product of the US extension of historical power over Latin America following the Monroe Doctrine of 1823. This “doctrine” originated from US President James Monroe’s opposition to European colonization efforts in the western hemisphere and discouraged interventions in the affairs of independent nations in the Americas by European powers. This position sought to protect the sovereignty and independence of recently formed nations in the western hemisphere. Since 1823, the US government has consistently opposed revolutionary movements across the Americas, reinforcing its view of Latin America as its own exclusive sphere of influence, often dubbed the United States’ “own backyard.”

PLACA murals also visualized imperial encounters. The concept expands on Maria del Carmen Suescun Pozas’s argument about how Latin American artists address a multiplicity of US-Latin American encounters of the “imperial kind” (Suescun Pozas 1998, p. 550). Suescun Pozas contends that images are pivotal in expressing and framing imperial encounters, as they can either complicate and reveal the intricacies of such encounters or simplify and favor specific meanings while suppressing others. In this way, Suescun Pozas underscores the idea that images both function to manifest practices of empire and constitute acts of interpretation shaped by social, political, and cultural contexts.

PLACA murals serve as a core example of US-Central American solidarity murals, as they highlight solidarity across regions while shedding light on the historical and imperial forces connecting them. Despite the majority of PLACA muralists not being of Central American descent, PLACA solidarity murals uphold a lasting connection between the Central American solidarity movement and the Chicana/o civil rights struggles in the United States. PLACA included individuals from different backgrounds who had shared ideals in advocating for increased inclusion within the US nation-state and also criticized the nation’s exercise of power over other nations in the Americas. PLACA artists shared a collective aim for the triumph and sovereignty of Central America, uniting individuals from diverse backgrounds, including white/Anglo artists, artists of color such as Chicanxs, and members of the Central American community. Owing to this collective perspective, many PLACA murals depicted imperial exchanges between Central America and the United States, while also capturing the wider imperial encounter between Latin America and the United States.

This approach created a collaborative mural environment representing multiple solidarities around the Central American civil wars. It also made Balmy Alley a site of “potentiality” (à la Guisela Latorre), where “artists can investigate the multiple possibilities for social justice, ones that may or may not have practical applications” (Latorre 2019). PLACA artists occupied a position within the space of potentiality where the vision of an inclusive society could be imagined and reimagined (Latorre 2019, pp. 3–4). Ultimately, the presence of PLACA’s murals in Balmy Alley is a testament to the transformative influence of public art in envisioning a future potentiality, as these murals play a significant role in shaping social memory, influencing how communities and individuals envision themselves in relation to the past and, importantly, the future through public street art.

Visual legacies of the Chicanx/a/o mural movement

Murals have become ubiquitous in today’s urban cities, but public murals, particularly those crafted by and for local communities, were not always as common. These murals constitute essential elements of visual culture in the United States, forming a multifaceted narrative influenced by historical events, notable artists, community activists, and everyday citizens. Since the 1930s, San Francisco has had a distinctive bond with murals that extends beyond the scope of the 1970s community mural movement. For example, famed Mexican muralist Diego Rivera painted three fresco murals in San Francisco: The Allegory of California (1931) at the City Club of San Francisco; The Making of a Fresco Showing the Building of a City (1931) at the San Francisco Art Institute; and Pan American Unity (1940). Soon after, as the New Deal era was ushered in, President Franklin Roosevelt’s administration introduced the Works Progress Administration (WPA) to combat unemployment. The WPA undertook public works projects, employing artists, writers, and musicians to create cultural works. In 1935, the WPA played a key role in contributing several fresco murals inspired by the Mexican government’s model to support fresco murals to amplify Mexican heritage, identity, and nationality. The United States observed and drew inspiration from the Mexican model. American artists employed by the WPA were encouraged to explore similar themes of social realism and national identity, which aligned with the broader goals of New Deal art programs. They created murals in public spaces depicting various aspects of American life, history, and values, akin to how Mexican muralists emphasized their national themes. Notably, some of Rivera’s assistants emerged as prominent New Deal artists who later became involved in San Francisco’s community murals, including Emmy Lou Packard, Lucienne Bloch, and Stephen Dimitroff (Drescher 1998). Inspired by Mexican muralists, numerous WPA murals prioritized social realism and were intended for widespread public appreciation.

Decades later, the inception of the community mural movement in 1967 Chicago, marked by the influential Wall of Respect, transcended mere visual expression. This iconic mural served as a symbol of African American pride and empowerment during the Black civil rights movement and catalyzed the broader community mural movement, igniting a ripple effect that prompted artists in various cities to embark on community murals. This phenomenon contributed to the proliferation of murals in locales such as barrios, ghettos, and overlooked areas primarily populated by individuals of color.Footnote 7 In California, Mexican Americans looked to their history for identity through the Chicana/o rights movement. In the agricultural expanses of California’s Central Valley, the Del Rey Mural by Antonio Bernal stands as a landmark. Created in 1968 on two wooden panel facades of the Teatro Campesino’s building in Del Rey, California, it paid homage to the earlier Mexican mural movement and is widely recognized as the first Chicana/o mural in California (Rodríguez-Gómez 2022, pp. 12–28). The Del Rey mural panels reflected early Chicanx/a/o Movement ideals, portraying Indigenous and revolutionary figures led by women, symbolizing unity and resistance (Villaseñor Black nd). Bernal links past oppression, from colonialism to the Mexican Revolution, to contemporary Black civil rights struggles, emphasizing collaboration between Black and Latinx communities. These murals, situated in predominantly Mexican American neighborhoods, served as grassroots expressions of Chicana/o history and political visibility, countering whitewashed narratives and challenging mainstream art institutions. Thus, the Chicana/o mural movement emerged across California, drawing on Mexican and Chicana/o muralist traditions and incorporating themes such as mestizaje, Aztlán, Pan-Latin American ideals, and anti-imperialism. In San Francisco, this movement not only symbolized cultural pride and resistance but also became a catalyst for community empowerment and social justice advocacy, profoundly influencing the city’s artistic and sociopolitical landscape. Over time, the creation of community murals shifted from trained artists to untrained individuals, including community leaders, residents, and school children, marking a gradual transition in mural production methods.

In San Francisco, one of the earliest public outdoor murals in the Mission District began in Balmy Alley “with the artistic imaginations of women and children,” thanks to the leadership of Mia Galaviz de González and Las Mujeres Muralistas (Cordova 2022). This block-long alleyway evolved into a focal point of creative expression, with its earliest murals dating to 1972. Balmy Alley’s first mural was painted by a group of children guided by Galaviz de González, who envisioned the project to engage children from Twenty-Fourth Street Place in the arts (Cordova 2022). During this time, the alley connected Twenty-Fourth Street to Garfield Square and the Bernal Heights public housing project, where local children walked and played. The street, covered in local gang graffiti, was known to be unsafe. For Galaviz de González, “the whole goal of [painting Balmy Alley] was to make it a place of safety and a place for families to walk up and down, much like that experience I had in Mexico, where the Plaza was a safe place for families to congregate, to meet, and to be” (Galaviz de González 2021). Balmy Alley served as both the genesis of community murals and the launching pad for other important mural groups. Graciela Carrillo and Patricia Rodríguez’s initiatives evolved into a collective called Las Mujeres Muralistas (the Women Muralists), which produced murals honoring the cultural identity and heritage of the Latinx/a/o community while also tackling social and political challenges faced by marginalized groups. Emerging as one of the pioneering mural art collectives in San Francisco’s Mission District, Las Mujeres Muralistas provided a platform for female artists, countering the prevailing male-dominated landscape of the contemporary Chicanx/a/o art movement.

The rise of US-Central American solidarity murals in San Francisco during the 1980s mirrors the influx of Central American immigrants into the city. In response, many individuals united in solidarity to engage in cultural activism, aiming to raise awareness about the challenges faced by Central Americans. In a neighborhood where murals already held significant importance as a form of visual public expression, these artworks served as potent visual narratives, articulating themes of heritage, resistance, and solidarity within the dynamic urban environment of the city. However, before PLACA, one of the earliest US-Central American solidarity murals in Balmy Alley appeared on the exterior walls of Casa Nicaragua, a pro-Sandinista community organization on the corner of Balmy Alley and Twenty-Fourth Street. This organization hosted various events promoting Latin American culture and contributed material aid campaigns for the reconstruction of Nicaragua. In 1978 the Sandinistas won their revolution in Nicaragua, ousting US-backed President Somoza. The following year, a group of Chilean artists calling themselves the Brigada Orlando Letelier (Orlando Letelier Brigade) painted “Viva Nicaragua” on the exterior walls of Casa Nicaragua (Fig. 1). The brigade was founded in homage to Chilean diplomat Orlando Letelier, who was assassinated via a car bomb planted by Pinochet’s secret police in Washington, DC, on 21 September 1976.Footnote 8

Fig. 1
figure 1

Brigada Orlando Letelier, Casa Sandino, 1979. Located in Balmy Alley at the corner of 24th Street. Photo by Tim Drescher

Full size image

The mural established a presence for Chilean and Nicaraguan transnational solidarity within the alley. Wrapping around the corner between the streets, the mural was visible from both the Twenty-Fourth Street corridor and Balmy Alley. On the wall facing Balmy Alley, the mural depicts two large hands reaching out to each other: one emblazoned with the Chilean flag, and the other with the Nicaraguan flag, representing solidarity between Chile and Nicaragua. The striking graphic black lines of the mural echo the graphic style embraced by the mural brigades active in Chile during the Salvador Allende administration, which persisted through the Pinochet dictatorship. On Twenty-Fourth Street, the mural centers a portrait of the revolutionary Augusto Sandino with the flags of the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional (FSLN) and Nicaragua floating behind him.

Despite the significant geographical distance between Chile and Nicaragua, exiles from these nations found common ground in their shared history of military dictatorships and US intervention. This shared experience fostered a sense of solidarity among artists and intellectuals from both countries, inspiring them to express resistance and promote unity through creative works, despite the ongoing political turmoil. The Viva Nicaragua mural on Casa Sandino was one of the earliest murals to represent transnational solidarity with Central Americans, making it one of the pioneering murals in this regard.

These two early murals, created at the height of the US community mural movement in the San Francisco Bay Area, became the cornerstone of Balmy Alley as a site for potentiality. They were created during an era of intense artistic experimentation and activism within the United States, as artists, muralists, and community organizers used their talents and resources to create art serving the needs and concerns of their local communities. These murals were the first instances of community-oriented murals, setting the stage for PLACA’s contribution to solidarity with Central America.

To understand PLACA’s genesis, it is crucial to grasp its primary source of inspiration—the nationwide movement Artists Call: Against U.S. Intervention in Central America, which swept across the United States in 1983–1984, galvanizing artists and activists alike. In the winter of 1983–1984, the Artists Call was intended to make a political statement against the history of US intervention in Central America, particularly the Reagan administration’s policies for maintaining US hegemony in the region. The Artists Call resulted in thirty-one exhibitions and performances, as well as poetry readings, film screenings, music concerts, and other cultural and educational events organized to raise money in support of Central American self-determination. Starting in New York City, the call had an enormous reach, extending to twenty-seven US and Canadian cities in total.Footnote 9

Inspired by the art activism of Artists Call, Patricia Rodríguez and Ray Patlán thought of an alternative way to protest US intervention with the same impetus as Artists Call, and envisioned transforming Balmy Alley into a site of protest murals. Rodríguez and Patlán began to talk to neighbors in Balmy Alley and met with the local residents to ask permission to paint murals on their fences and garage walls and doors. Rodríguez had lived in Balmy Alley for several years, while Patlán, originally from Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood, had moved to San Francisco in 1975, producing several murals in the Bay Area and becoming involved in the community mural movement.

While murals have long been used as a form of protest, PLACA’s approach of deploying a series of murals as a unified protest against US intervention in Central America was a novel strategy within the broader Central American solidarity movement in the United States. The PLACA murals were thus both activist and revolutionary, paralleling the production of anti-imperialist and revolutionary murals in Central America, especially Nicaragua during the 1980s. Supported by the Sandinista government, the country began attracting international mural artists to paint in Nicaragua, resulting in the creation of more than three hundred murals throughout the decade. Publications like Community Murals Magazine (1977–1987), based in San Francisco, served as a pivotal international platform for documenting and spreading awareness about these community murals. Local muralists reading the magazine were thus informed of the extensive revolutionary murals being produced in Nicaragua, and some even traveled to Nicaragua to participate in creating these murals. Later, scholars like David Craven and David Kunzle led groundbreaking research on Central American art and visual culture, specifically examining how murals have been used to promote Sandinista revolutionary concepts (see Kunzle 1995 and Craven 2002).Yet, the integration of this transnational mural scholarship into discussions about US-Central American solidarity movements during this era is still largely unexplored, highlighting PLACA’s distinctiveness.

Transnational opposition and Keeping the Peace in Central America

Painted by Chicano artist Carlos “Kookie” González, Keeping the Peace in Central America allows the viewer to understand the politics at home in the United States and abroad in Central America with regard to internal and external tensions the US was facing (Fig. 2). González, who describes himself as a Chicano artist raised in the Mission District, viewed Patlán as a mentor. In his mid-twenties, while studying at San Francisco State University and living in the Mission District, González became cognizant of the circumstances that Central Americans endured during the conflict, informed by the accounts of friends and residents who recounted their experiences of the war.

Fig. 2
figure 2

Carlos “Kookie” González, Keeping the Peace in Central America, 1984. Located in Balmy Alley. Photo by Nicole Emanuel, courtesy of Artstor

Full size image

The 1984 Summer Olympics, held in Los Angeles, California, had a significant impact on González’s artistic direction for his contribution to PLACA. During this time, he became aware of disturbing incidents of police harassment targeting Black and brown Angelenos, supposedly in the name of ensuring security for the Olympics. The context of the Olympics heightened the significance of these issues, as the city wanted to represent itself to the world as clean and presentable, resulting in the removal of homeless individuals and disproportionately affecting the impoverished population. Simultaneously, many Central American refugees in Los Angeles faced their own displacement challenges. González observed the increased use of helicopters, also known as “ghetto birds,” by the police in Los Angeles during the 1980s, drawing a parallel between this militarization and the helicopters used by the military in Central America to suppress brewing revolutions. This realization deeply troubled González and fueled his reflections on US intervention in Central America, as well as heightening his awareness of the internal “wars” waged against people of color within the United States.

The mural depicted the US American bald eagle clutching a dead dove with a stolen olive branch and blood on its beak, while flying over a recently bombed Central American town. The mural’s right portion portrays a dilapidated house, etched with cracks and scarred with bullet holes. It is set against a background filled with warm tones of yellow and orange, reminiscent of dawn or dusk, and is accented by the silhouettes of palm trees characteristic of Central America’s lush landscape. To the left, there is a building with arches representing a Spanish colonial building set in a town plaza. The architecture of the building is reminiscent of many Spanish colonial town plazas built throughout Latin America. The plaza is empty, however, which fits with the narrative that this is a recently bombed town. In the mural’s upper left corner, a bald eagle grips a white dove in its talons, juxtaposing symbols of war and peace. The official mascot for the 1984 Olympics was Sam the Olympic Eagle. Reminiscent of Uncle Sam, Sam the Olympic Eagle wears a red-and-white striped bowtie and top hat with a white Olympic logo on its blue hatband (Fig. 3). González depicts Sam the Olympic Eagle not with typical cartoonish features, but rather as a formidable figure: a violent eagle gripping a dove’s lifeless body.

Fig. 3
figure 3

Sam the Olympic Eagle, the mascot of the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles, California, USA. Creator Bob Moore

Full size image

González’s representation of Sam the Olympic Eagle was an explicit comment on the force of US imperialism and power imposed on Central America. The bald eagle often represents notions of democracy, freedom, and liberty, yet here, Sam the Olympic Eagle is seen as a savage predator killing the universally symbolic bird of peace (white dove). Further, the eagle has blood on its beak, demonstrating that it did in fact kill the dove. González does not make this gesture lightly, yet one of PLACA’s strict rules was for artists to not include any depictions of “blood and guts” in their murals, as this mirrored the sensationalistic coverage by photojournalists documenting the civil wars, which often made headlines (Patlán 2015). Kency Cornejo points out that many of the 1980s images coming out of the Central American civil wars and widely circulated to US audiences were of helicopters dropping bombs, tropical landscapes, poverty, and violence, but these images were from the perspectives of foreign journalists and photographers rather than Central Americans themselves (Cornejo 2019). PLACA members knew that children played and walked in Balmy Alley, and it would not align with their ideals to depict graphic violence there. Hence, the portrayal of blood on the beak of an eagle symbolizing the United States carries a significant message, implying that the US government bears responsibility for its military intervention in the Central American civil wars, which resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of individuals by the conflict’s conclusion.

Another indication of Sam’s savagery is portrayed on his beak, where he grips an olive branch that González alleges is stolen from the dove (González 2011). The peace dove is often depicted with an olive branch in its beak; the olive branch is widely recognized as a symbol representing an offer of peace or a gesture of goodwill. Here the eagle has stolen the branch from the dove, which is metaphorically representing the imperial encounter between the United States and the ongoing Central American civil wars taking place in 1984. The prospect of an eagle stealing an olive branch from the peace dove, alongside the ironic title Keeping the Peace in Central America invites one to question, who are the true peacekeepers in Central America? The irony of the title lies in the fact that the United States frequently asserted through news media that it was “maintaining peace” in Central America, often by backing the military dictators and favorable governments who combatted revolutionaries. For example, Ronald Reagan used the term “freedom fighters” to refer to the Contras in Nicaragua, who were counterrevolutionary groups fighting against the Sandinista government, which had overthrown the Somoza dictatorship in 1979. The Contras formed in 1981, and their activity increased when Reagan took office and started to actively support them. However, direct US support for the Contras was controversial and led to the Iran-Contra affair in the mid-1980s. Another instance of covert US military involvement in Central America came from the School of the Americas, as many of its graduates went on to terrorize Central America during the civil wars. Notable SOA graduates such as Roberto D’Aubisson ordered the assassination of Archbishop Óscar A. Romero in El Salvador, which exacerbated the Salvadoran civil war after his death on 24 March 1980. Another SOA graduate, Efraín Ríos Montt, was a Guatemalan military officer and politician who served as the de facto president of Guatemala from 1982 to 1983 after seizing power in a military coup. His short rule was marked by intense violence and widespread human rights abuses, particularly against indigenous Mayan communities, during what was one of the bloodiest periods of the Guatemalan civil wars. These cases are merely a selection of the numerous occasions on which military operations, carried out clandestinely or publicly by the United States, have often served as a facade to commence and continue acts of violence while allegedly maintaining peace.

Miranda Bergman and O’Brien Thiele’s Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation

Created by Miranda Bergman and O’Brien Thiele, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation, visualizes the imperial encounter and embraces a wider pan-Latin American viewpoint (Fig. 4). While incorporating imagery associated with Central America, the mural also integrates symbols and representations reflective of a broader Latin American narrative. The mural resonates with a wider pan-Latin American consciousness, emphasizing a collective struggle against the influence of the US empire. Furthermore, the mural expands the perception of those involved in transnational solidarity, as Bergman and Thiele, though they were not of Central American or Latinx heritage, espouse anti-imperialist principles and advocate for peace in the region. Through their artwork, they aimed to inspire change and showcase their commitment to visualizing imperial dynamics while directly engaging with political imagination. As Bergman put it, “PLACA was a symbol and metaphor for transformation, that if we can transform this alley with paint, then we can transform our human cultures” (Bergman 2020).

Fig. 4
figure 4

Miranda Bergman and O’Brien Thiele, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance that Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation, original 1984 mural. Located in Balmy Alley. Photograph provided by Jim Prigoff

Full size image

When Bergman and Thiele joined PLACA, they brought with them extensive experience as muralists who had worked on various murals throughout the city and were well entrenched in the community mural movement. For their contribution to PLACA they collaborated on a 200-square-foot mural painted on the sliding doors of an old stable, portraying distinct worlds within Central America during Ronald Reagan’s presidency. The mural’s title, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation, comes from a statement by the revolutionary and anti-imperialist figure Amílcar Cabral (1924–1973), who played pivotal roles in the independence movements of Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde, former Portuguese colonies in West Africa. Cabral was recognized as an anticolonial leader, revolutionary, and political theorist, and his ideas on national liberation, revolutionary action, and anti-imperialism have profoundly influenced decolonization movements and the quest for social justice in Africa and beyond. The muralists’ selection of this quote aims to acknowledge not only the liberation struggles in Central America during the 1980s, but also liberation movements across Latin America, reflecting a Pan-Latin American perspective in the mural’s themes.

The mural’s space is divided into two separate scenes. In the mural’s left panel is a village in wartime, where a house is engulfed in flames; above the smoke, two military figures oversee the destruction from ominous clouds. The right panel of the mural depicts a more hopeful Central America. In the left panel’s center, a group of two women and a man hold black-and-white photographs depicting their missing family members. The two women wear matching black dresses with gray socks/garters and black shoes. The portrayal of the two women standing together evokes the presence of CoMadres, an abbreviation for Comite de Madres y Familiares de Presos, Desaparecidos y Asesinados Politicos de El Salvador, an organization established in 1977 by nine mothers and relatives of individuals who had been incarcerated, disappeared, or killed for political reasons (Schirmer 1993). Their mission was to advocate for the rights and social justice of their loved ones while raising awareness about the human rights violations committed by various parties. This diverse group encompassed students, educators, laborers, farmers, homemakers, and local merchants (Stephen 1997). Likewise, the two women may also reference the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, a human rights organization formed by Argentinian mothers whose children were forcibly disappeared during the country’s military dictatorship. This organization was established in response to the National Reorganization Process led by the military dictatorship formed by Jorge Rafael Videla in 1977. The Mothers’ primary objective was to locate the desaparecidos (disappeared individuals) and subsequently identify the perpetrators of crimes against humanity in order to facilitate their prosecution and punishment. They marched silently in the Plaza de Mayo to demand information and justice, drawing international attention to the government’s human rights abuses. Their activism played a vital role in uncovering the truth, seeking accountability, and advocating for human rights. Thus, Bergman and Thiele’s inclusion of mothers dressed in black refers to the brutal dictatorships and civil wars taking place across Latin America.

On the far-left side of this panel is a subtle yet powerful statement on US imperialism in Central America. Two ominous figures appear in the smoke, painted in such a way that it is unclear exactly who they are––but this unclarity is intentional (Fig. 5). One portrays a military figure wearing dark sunglasses and a service cap adorned with stars indicating his military status. The other person vaguely resembles Ronald Reagan, who was US President from 1981 to 1989. In a 2020 interview with Bergman in which she reflects on the mural’s 2014 restoration, she reveals the identities of the two figures: “One of them is Reagan, who was the president in the original time, 1984, and we decided to keep him because he did represent that era. And then the other one is, uh, you know, just a kind of nonspecific dictator supported by CIA funds” (Bergman 2020). The revelation that the military officer is supposed to represent a Latin American dictator backed by US funding explains the images of dollar signs mirrored in the figure’s sunglass lenses. The figures’ severe and stoic facial expressions make them appear to be overseeing the destruction of the burning village. Positioning the two figures above the main scene depicts them as puppeteers, emphasizing the frequently hidden US military and governmental agendas contributing to imperialistic encounters. As mentioned previously, Central American military leaders learned how to suppress revolutionary uprisings in Latin America at the School of the Americas.Footnote 10 In the early 1980s, several former SOA graduates were accused of human rights abuses, as the school encouraged the use of brutal techniques of torture and repression on civilians (Wallace and Houston 2002). In 1993, a leaked list of sixty thousand SOA graduates confirmed that numerous “dictators, death squad operatives, and assassins” had been educated there (Gill 2004). Thus, the mural’s inclusion of Ronald Reagan together with the enigmatic military figure references the United States’ direct involvement in civil conflicts occurring in Central America.

Fig. 5
figure 5

Miranda Bergman and O’Brien Thiele, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance that Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation, originally painted in 1984; this is the repainted 2014 version. Located in Balmy Alley. Photograph by the author

Full size image

The mural presents an intriguing element in its bottom left corner: a disproportionately large green leg adorned with a black boot (Fig. 6). This large leg, seemingly belonging to a military figure, steps on the raw coffee beans carried by a campesino, symbolically alluding to the imperialist dominance of the United States over Latin America. The decision by Bergman and Thiele to magnify the boot in comparison to other figures in the mural recalls early 1900s cartoons by Louis Dalrymple depicting Uncle Sam extending control over the Americas through the 1823 Monroe Doctrine (Fig. 7). Nevertheless, in this specific depiction, the military boot, likely symbolizing the United States, crushes the Central American village and the labor of the campesino. On closer inspection, the burlap sack carried by the campesino reveals three bullet holes allowing coffee beans to spill out. Moreover, the sack is marked solo para exportacion (Spanish for “for export only”), highlighting the exploitive nature of the US-Central American imperialist relationship and the absence of benefits to local peoples.

Fig. 6
figure 6

Miranda Bergman and O’Brien Thiele, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance that Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation, originally painted in 1984; this is the repainted 2014 version. Located in Balmy Alley. Photograph by the author

Full size image
Fig. 7
figure 7

Louis Dalrymple, Monroe Doctrine, 1905

Full size image

The mural’s right panel paints a brighter future, with lush harvests, agrarian farm work, and peaceful music. A man plays the guitar alongside the lyrics from Cuban artist Silvio Rodríguez’s 1976 song, “Te Doy Una Canción”: “I give you a song like a tribute, like a book, a word, a freedom fighter, like I give love.” The lyric references the impact of the musical genre of Nueva Canción (New Song) on revolutionary movements across Latin America beginning in the 1960s. The Nueva Canción movement mobilized cultural and musical expressions as a form of protest and resistance against social injustices, political oppression, and economic inequalities in Latin America. It sought to raise awareness about issues such as poverty, exploitation, and human rights abuses through folk-inspired music characterized by powerful lyrics and melodies. Additionally, the movement strategically utilized the power of song to mobilize the listening public across regional, national, ethnic, cultural, and linguistic divides, aiming to promote a sense of cultural identity and solidarity among the marginalized and oppressed populations of Latin America (Tumas-Serna 1992; Fairley 1984). Nueva Canción artists emerged in various Latin American countries during times of revolution, incorporating folkloric instruments and melodies into their music, which often carried protest or political messages. Through its symbolic representation, the mural pays tribute to the significance of Nueva Canción in the revolutionary and liberation movements throughout Latin America.

In addition to painting murals, PLACA’s artists documented the group’s collective action, purpose, and goals in a manifesto printed in Community Murals (1984) magazine. The collective agreed that PLACA’s goal via visual representation was to explicitly denounce the Reagan administration’s foreign policies on Central American affairs:

As artists and muralists, PLACA members aim to call attention to the situation that exists today in Central America, as a result of the current administration’s policies. The situation in El Salvador, the situation in Nicaragua, the situation in Guatemala, the situation in Honduras. PLACA members do not ally themselves with this administration’s policy that has created death and war and despair, and that threatens more lives daily. We aim to demonstrate in visual/environmental terms, our solidarity, our respect, for the people of Central America.Footnote 11

In contrast, Artists Call’s much longer manifesto was widely reproduced and circulated via a poster designed by Claes Oldenburg. In both cases, a manifesto was necessary because the open calls and visual experimentation were too abstract to convey a clear political message, let alone raise political awareness about US intervention in Central America. Therefore, the manifesto played a critical role in creating a shared vision that united artists with aesthetic and political purposes.

Residents of the Mission District responded with compassion to the arrival of Central American refugees escaping civil war. The cultural production and definition of Latinx identity in this area were influenced by a transnational ideology of liberation and liberation theology (Cordova 2017). The pan-ethnic group of artists who collaborated on PLACA represented a diverse range of artistic styles and skill levels. Beyond the murals, transnational solidarity was also echoed in poetry and literature in the local Spanish-language newspapers reporting on the civil wars, including Tin Tan, El Tecolote, El Pulgarcito, and La Gaceta Sandinista. These cultural strategies, including PLACA murals, heightened collective focus in San Francisco’s Mission District, contributing to the evolution and success of the movement.

Originally painted in 1984, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation is the only original PLACA mural that remains in Balmy Alley. Despite being over four decades old, the mural remains in Balmy Alley, serving as a powerful source of inspiration and education whose message remains resonant today. In 2014, the artists restored the mural to ensure its enduring impact on future generations. By examining its symbols and imagery, viewers can gain a deeper understanding of the enduring legacies of imperialism, exploitation, and resistance that continue to shape the cultural and political landscapes of the Americas. Today, Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation is a visual reminder of PLACA’s origins and the ongoing struggles for justice and equality in Central America and beyond.

Assessing PLACA’s impact

Through their vivid imagery, symbolic motifs, and narrative compositions, PLACA’s murals became a testament to the collective power of US-Central American solidarity murals. They provided a visually captivating and accessible platform for cultural expression, historical reflection, and sociopolitical critique created by solidarity artists. By raising awareness among North Americans and making visible the long-standing imperial encounter between the United States and Central America, these murals became a powerful vehicle for dialogue, understanding, and solidarity within the diverse urban fabric of San Francisco’s Mission District.

PLACA’s contribution to the mural landscape of San Francisco is significant, with its twenty-seven murals transforming Balmy Alley and the surrounding Mission District both visually and spatially. The collective efforts of its thirty-six artists provided a visual rejection of US intervention in Central America and asserted a camaraderie with the region’s revolutionary efforts. PLACA’s presence in Balmy Alley has been pivotal in championing social justice and embodying political messages through public art. PLACA not only carved out a niche for Central American–themed murals in Balmy Alley but also made a profound and enduring impact on the tradition of murals symbolizing US-Central American solidarity. As the original PLACA murals began to fade, they gave way to fresh artworks by new waves of artists. The ripple effect created by the PLACA collection in 1984 reshaped the alley for years to follow. PLACA bestowed a Central American visual presence that permeated not just the alley but the Mission District of San Francisco.

PLACA’s murals established a precedent for future Central American–themed murals in Balmy Alley and the wider Mission District.Footnote 12 As the civil wars unfolded throughout the 1980s and 1990s, an increasing number of Central American murals emerged in various locations within the Mission District. While only Bergman and Thiele’s Culture Contains the Seed of Resistance, Which Blossoms into the Flower of Liberation has been fully restored, as of 2024 Balmy Alley still boasts seven US-Central American solidarity murals created by non-Central Americans, and two by Salvadoran American artist Josué Rojas (one of which he collaborated on with his mother, Ester García). Despite the effects of vandalism and the elements on the fences and garage doors where its murals are painted, Balmy Alley remains a dynamic space of ever-evolving murals. The continuous presence of Central American murals there further extends the enduring legacy of transnational solidarity fostered in the 1980s.

In the post-PLACA era, the mission of promoting a comparative and antiauthoritarian vision of justice in Balmy Alley continues through the emergence of new murals (Harford Vargas 2017). Numerous artists have left their artistic imprints in the alley, each with their own unique approach. While some artists choose to explore Central American themes, others examine indigeneity, Chicanx art, feminism, and gentrification. However, the subject of Central America has remained consistently relevant, especially owing to ongoing immigration from the region to the San Francisco Bay Area. As a result, the visual representation and artistic expressions of Balmy Alley continue to reflect the significance and contemporary relevance of the Central American experience.

Balmy Alley’s PLACA murals stand as a lasting testament to the enduring impact of art activism, providing a platform for diverse voices addressing social justice issues. They continue to symbolize the power of art in fostering community solidarity and driving social change. By recognizing the significance of PLACA and its contribution to the Central American solidarity movement, one gains valuable insights into art’s potential for fostering transnational solidarity. These murals not only aimed to raise awareness about US intervention in Central America but also sought to cultivate solidarity with the Central American population, creating a powerful legacy of activism and unity.