Before delving into the significance of 1903, The Musical, let’s discuss mass control through political propaganda—an instrument designed to persuade in times of war by influencing emotions, political ideologies, or cultural beliefs.
Political propaganda dates back to Roman emperors such as Julius Caesar and Augustus, who used monuments, coins, and public speeches to consolidate power and promote their achievements. In 1622, Pope Gregory XV established the Sacra Congregatio de Propaganda Fide to control global evangelization from Rome while also reinforcing papal authority worldwide. Over time, propaganda became a key tool in totalitarian regimes, from Lenin’s implementation of communism in Russia to the Nazis’ rise to power in Germany.
Today, when we see an American flag, hear the name “Trump,” or even read the acronym “MAGA,” the first thing our minds semantically associate with—regardless of context—is living imperialism. In Panama, this translates to “sovereignty,” a concept that has been hard to uphold in history books.
But how does this relate to 1903, The Musical?
Harold Lasswell, a pioneer in political science and communication theory, describes propaganda as a controlled flow of information designed to shape public opinion and establish behavioral models. This should not necessarily be viewed in a negative light. While Donald Trump maneuvers according to his interests, Panamanians have their own lived history—one that continues to be brought to life on grand stages before audiences who refuse to let their past fade away.
1903, The Musical is a prime example of well-executed political propaganda: from its set designs and costumes to its actors and music—songs that could very well become anthems of sovereignty. The play is crafted like a chess match, where every move is strategic. It’s not until the final scene that the audience truly feels the “checkmate,” leaving no emotion untouched—at least one tear is inevitable.
The script opens with Victoriano Lorenzo—one of Panama’s great historical heroes—lying on the ground at what is now Plaza de Francia. A largely forgotten figure in history, he comes back to life to reenact Panama’s separation from Colombia. The characters are meticulously developed, even in brief appearances like that of Theodore Roosevelt or the ironically portrayed Philippe Bunau-Varilla. Even if history books were to erase his name, he would remain an antihero—someone to whom Panama “owes” its canal, yet who also sold the country out for $10 million.
The power of music
According to an article by Eduardo Barreto Martín, a researcher at the University of Salamanca, on the relationship between democratic memory and cultural spaces, music not only reinforces messages but also facilitates memorization and creates emotional connections around a collective goal. In 1903, The Musical, the songs play a crucial role in the narrative and in evoking national identity.
Songs like No se gana (pero se goza) resonate deeply with audiences through lyrics such as:
“For Panama, the sun rises, another day for the government to score another goal on us. Join the movement, play your role, because we must reclaim this land.”
Meanwhile, Eres mi hogar conveys a deep sense of belonging with lines like:
“The land that, when split, will unite the world… You are my home, there is no greater love, no other place like you.”
The song Bandera elevates the national flag to a symbol of hope and sacrifice:
“Blue, like the mares we will unite. Red, the wound yet to heal. White, the peace dreamed of by the martyrs who will raise you high.”
And finally, the iconic Sé para tu patria becomes an anthem of resistance and courage:
“Leave behind the fear that holds you back. The warrior within you stands today. Stand up and be for Panama, be for your country.”
These songs function as powerful propaganda triggers. Their impact can be compared to the use of music during World War I, when songs were composed to encourage public support for the war effort—a strategy that also proved effective during World War II. However, political propaganda should not always be seen in a negative light; it can serve as a powerful tool for strengthening a nation’s identity and collective memory.
Social impact and counter-propaganda
Theater as a political tool is nothing new. Chilean playwright Isidora Aguirre once recalled how Salvador Allende requested the inclusion of her play Los que van quedando en el camino to bolster his presidential campaign. 1903, The Musical operates in a similar fashion—it is a counter-narrative that reinforces Panamanian pride against external narratives that, in 2025, threaten to resurface. It may not be part of Trump’s propaganda machine, but in Panama, at least, it continues to serve as a reminder of the country’s resilience.
From symbolic representation and social critique to the idealization of heroes and villains, the simplification of complex ideas, and the mobilization of audiences—all these elements are reflected in the play, which effectively captures the essence of these mechanisms.
Ultimately, the figure of Ascanio Arosemena—a student leader killed in 1964 during the Día de los Mártires protests, when a group of students entered the U.S.-controlled Panama Canal Zone—stands as a symbol encompassing generations of Panamanians who have fought for their nation’s sovereignty. His story leaves a profound message of unity that resonates powerfully in the hearts of all who witness the play.
*Machine translation proofread by Ricardo Aceves.
Autor
Periodista y estudiante de derecho y ciencias políticas.Comunicadora del Centro Internacional de Estudios Políticos y Sociales AIP-Panamá (CIEPS)
