Latinos fight for ‘War’ memorial

While Don Imus spent this week trying, unsuccessfully, to make amends for sexist and racist remarks he made on the air, documentary filmmaker Ken Burns was forced to address a controversy over what was left unsaid in his upcoming PBS series about World War II.

Latino advocates have been up in arms recently over the exclusion of Latino soldier stories from Burns’ new seven-part documentary, “The War,” which explores the conflict through the personal narratives of veterans and their families. Critics argued that the history would not be complete without the stories of Latino soldiers who enlisted in droves -- as many as 500,000 strong -- and were represented in the ranks more prominently than in civil society back home.

This week, PBS announced that Burns agreed to incorporate Latino and Native American voices. Burns will assemble a new production team, including a Latino, to create the material in time for the Sept. 23 premiere.

“That’s quite a concession,” said Otto Santa Ana, associate professor of Chicana and Chicano studies at UCLA, whose father and five uncles served in WWII. “I’m very excited that Maggie and her team worked so hard to make PBS aware that they cannot ignore the story of Latino veterans anymore.”

He’s referring to Maggie Rivas-Rodriguez, the person who spearheaded the campaign to get the ear of PBS.

Rivas-Rodriguez, who teaches a class in narrative journalism at the University of Texas at Austin, has been at the heart of an effort to collect and preserve the previously undocumented stories of Latinos in the war. In 1999, she founded the U.S. Latino & Latina WWII Oral History Project.

But this is no mere affirmative action issue for the people involved.

World War II marked a seismic shift in the social life of Latinos, who were still facing overt discrimination in the U.S. at the time. The sacrifices Latino soldiers made on the battlefield alongside whites gave them a new sense of equality.

When they returned home, they got college degrees and bought homes through the GI Bill. And more important, they became pioneers in the Latino civil rights movement, battling discrimination through new organizations such as the GI Forum and the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund.

“All of a sudden they were in the same barracks with Anglos,” said Hector Galan, a Texas-based documentary filmmaker whose father fought in the Philippines. “They would eat, sleep, fight and die together, all as human beings. So for Latinos to come back and be placed in the same [inferior] situation, they said, ‘Hell no!’ ”

Still, the decision cuts both ways for Galan.

“As a Latino, I’m thrilled,” said the producer, whose work frequently airs on PBS. “But as a filmmaker, I’m saddened because I wouldn’t want to be put in the same position to change content due to pressure. It smacks of censorship and it could be precedent-setting.”

Worried about the same issues, PBS was at first reluctant to ask Burns to alter his work. But in the end, the network decided it couldn’t ignore the public clamor, and Burns agreed. Existing material won’t be cut to allow for the new material, said John Wilson, the network’s senior vice president of programming.

“We sort of have to walk that line of trying to do right by the audience while allowing the filmmakers to execute their vision,” Wilson told me this week.

It’s hard not to be moved by some war stories Latinos have to tell.

Santa Ana, the UCLA professor, choked up when he recalled his family’s experience. His uncles were U.S.-born citizens who got swept up in the mass deportations during the Depression. After finding their way back across the border, they were still somehow willing to die for their country.

“Many of these men didn’t feel they were fully American until they served in that uniform,” said Santa Ana, who’s on the board of the oral history project. “That’s the sentiment that galvanized all the veterans who were there.” And that’s what galvanized the protesters against Burns and PBS.

One of them was Gus Chavez, a Vietnam-era Navy vet who was named after an uncle who died during maneuvers off the coast of Texas. He ticks off the names of four other uncles who served and survived -- Michael, Alfredo, Gilbert and Leo, a German POW.

To him, the PBS issue was personal.

“It was very painful because I knew that the memory and the history of my family was being totally disregarded,” said Chavez, who also worked on the oral history project.

The Southwest is full of such stories. There’s hardly an established household in East L.A. that wasn’t touched by the war. Now, some of our vets could get a chance to share their stories with Burns, who previews the documentary here later this month.

So by week’s end, Imus was out, Latino vets were in. Not a bad trade-off.

“Ken Burns’ The War: An Advance Look.” The documentary filmmaker will present a preview of his seven-part series on World War II on April 23 at 7 p.m. at the Museum of Television & Radio, 465 N. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills. Tickets: $15 nonmembers, $10 members. Call (310) 786-1091 or go to www.mtr.org.

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Romantic Guerra on comeback trail

What the world needs now is more old-fashioned romance, singer Juan Luis Guerra told me during a stop in Los Angeles this week. It seemed like well-informed advice coming from a man who penned one of the most popular romantic songs in the Spanish language, “Burbujas de Amor” (Love Bubbles), and who has remained married to the same woman for 23 years.

During the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, Guerra was among the Top 5 most influential pop stars in the Spanish-speaking world.

He ignited a trend of socially conscious merengue with uplifting songs such as “Ojala Que Llueva Cafe” (Wish It Would Rain Coffee), a sweet-natured anthem that has been covered by Mexico’s Cafe Tacuba and many others. And he became one of the field’s bestselling stars with his smash 1990 album “Bachata Rosa” (Pink Bachata), named for his country’s rural love songs, which he single-handedly turned into an international pop craze.

That was a great moment for Guerra, and for Latin music.

Guerra, who turns 50 this year, came to L.A. as part of a comeback campaign. He’s got a new album, “La Llave de Mi Corazon” (The Key to My Heart), which recaptures some of his old flair while adding fresh elements. The song debuted this week at No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot Latin Songs chart.

He performed Wednesday at Hollywood’s Avalon in a private show. The night was bittersweet: a reminder that we have no current pop figure of his stature today, but also a moment to be swept up in the joy -- and romance -- of his music once again.

Gurza covers Latino music, arts and culture. E-mail agustin.gurza@latimes.com with comments, events and ideas for this weekly feature.