Short History Of... - The Panama Canal

Episode Date: December 9, 2024

A 50-mile man-made waterway connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, the creation of the Panama Canal was arguably the greatest infrastructure project the world had ever seen. But its journey from concept to completion was anything but simple, as it failed repeatedly, and passed through numerous pairs of hands, before a decade-long construction began, fronted by the United States. But what made the creation of the canal the single most expensive construction effort in American history, both in dollars and human life? Why did a seemingly simple ditch-digging exercise stump the era’s greatest engineers? And who was responsible for reversing the fate of the Panama Canal Project? This is a Short History Of the Panama Canal. A Noiser production, written by Olivia Jordan. With thanks to Julie Greene, Professor of History at the University of Maryland, and author of The Canal Builders.       Get every episode of Short History Of a week early with Noiser+. You’ll also get ad-free listening, bonus material, and early access to shows across the Noiser network. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is late summer in 1909. After two weeks at sea, the SS Ancon, a large American steamship, is preparing to dock in the Panamanian port town of Cristobal. Among the 1,500 Barbadians, all men who are crowded shoulder to shoulder on the top deck, is a 22-year-old former teacher and his younger brother, a musician. Like the rest of the passengers, they have made this journey on the promise of good employment, a fair wage, and free living as laborers on the American-run Panama Canal project. The boat is brought alongside the dock with a bump. Slapping his brother excitedly on the back,

the teacher watches as the dock workers lay long planks down, bridging the distance from boat to shore. A shrill whistle signals that they're to disembark, and the Barbadians start to move. Careful of their footing, the brothers make their way down to the makeshift pontoon, until they gratefully find themselves on solid ground, with nothing more than a small sack of belongings. They follow the snaking crowd through the dockyard and into a large gray building. Inside, it is hot, humid, and overcrowded,

but they wait in line to register their arrival with the U.S. government. Once they're booked in, they embark on the next leg of their journey on foot. Several days later, the former teacher wakes early in the windowless shack he shares with several other men. He rouses his brother, who has seemed a little weak for the last few days. But even so, they need to get themselves ready for work. Outside, there is a trough of food. Though it's humiliating to eat this way, it's the only thing on offer, so he queues up with his bowl in hand, waiting for his ration to be spooned in. With breakfast done, it's time to leave.

Walking to their workstation on the canal route is the first of many grueling efforts the brothers will endure today the trudge through jungle terrain means they're already tired before the real labor begins directed towards a half dug ditch by their american foreman they grab their picks and shovels and get started the work work is difficult and dangerous, the environment harsh and humid. But one of the greatest risks here is malaria, for which they are given daily doses of quinine. With his younger brother seemingly struggling even more than he was yesterday, the teacher is particularly anxious for the arrival of the quinine man,

whose job it is to distribute the daily medicine. But they still have to work. They lift their picks in unison, swinging upwards and striking down on the bedrock below their feet. When they've broken enough ground, they exchange the picks for shovels, and scoop by scoop, deposited on the back of a waiting three-sided railway wagon, which will carry the spoil to a waste dump somewhere deeper in the jungle. But soon the young musician begins to flag. His elder brother urges him to take a break, but after a few minutes when he tries to get back up again, he finds that he can barely lift his pick. Though he knows the bosses won't like it, the teacher

convinces him to go home and rest. He'll bring him the quinine later. The older of the pair labors on without his brother, but as soon as the whistle goes at the end of the shift, he races back, stopping only when he sees the quinine man and persuades him to give him double rations. Arriving finally back at the hut, he quickly pushes the thin door open. On his bunk in the corner of his room is his baby brother. He rushes over and tries to get him to drink the medicine, but he can hardly take a sip. The malaria has already robbed him of all his strength. He will be one of the many workers doomed never to return home during the course of the construction of the Panama Canal.

A 50-mile man-made waterway that connects the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, the creation of the Panama Canal was arguably the greatest infrastructure project the world has ever seen. But its journey from concept to completion was anything but simple. Though canals were being successfully built across the globe, the Panama Project was an anomaly, failing repeatedly and passing through many hands before a grueling, decade-long construction fronted by the United States began.

But what made the creation of a canal the single most expensive construction effort in American history, in both dollars and human life. Why did a seemingly simple ditch-dicking exercise stump the greatest engineers of the era? And who was responsible for reversing the fate of the Panama Canal project when it appeared that all was lost? I'm John Hopkins from the Noiser Network. This is A Short History of the Panama Canal. The idea of building a canal across Panama dates back to the early 16th century, when

explorers and mapmakers recognized the potential in this thin strip of land in Central America. Known as an isthmus, it connects the two larger land masses of North and South America, while also providing a narrow division between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The isthmus is a tantalizing potential shortcut. Currently the main trade route from the Atlantic to the Pacific involves a lengthy, perilous trip around the southern tip of the Americas, known for its unpredictable conditions.

Ships risking the journey often never reach their destinations, while those that do make it will have been away from home for months. Julie Green is professor of history at the University of Maryland and author of The Canal Builders. Without a canal, either a really arduous journey had to be taken across the area over land,

or ships had to travel all the way down to the southern tip of South America and around. So if a canal could be built, it could reduce the travel time of ships by months and eliminate about 8,000 nautical miles. So it would be a huge accomplishment. In the early 1500s, tempted by the possibility of streamlining these trade routes, Charles I of Spain orders an expedition to consider the possibility of somehow cutting through the Isthmus of Panama, which is currently part of the Spanish Empire.

However, the Spanish expedition finds the dream unattainable. The equipment it would need simply doesn't exist. There is just too much inaccessible mountainous terrain to excavate, and so the idea is abandoned. By 1848, the United States has just claimed the new territory of California when gold is discovered. The gold rush that follows sees large numbers of would-be prospectors in need of transport to the West Coast to try their luck hunting in the California gold fields.

To meet demand, the Panama Railroad Company is created in 1849 by a group of American investors. Panama is a neglected province of what is now Colombia, so the US must apply for a concession from the local government to build a railroad through the Isthmus. The request is granted, and though the rail route speeds up travel for passengers, it is not able to meet the growing global demand for freight transportation between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. And with the loading and unloading of goods between train

and boat remaining so time-consuming and labor-intensive, the railroad is still not as transformative as a canal could be. Though Spain may have first conceived of building an artificial waterway through the region, the French are the first to actually attempt it. After the completion of the Suez Canal in 1869, they turned their attention to a similar potential project in Panama, which could aid their trade routes between Europe and Asia. Ferdinand de Lesseps, the popular French diplomat and architect of the Suez Canal, creates the Panama Canal Company in 1879,

which is funded primarily through the sale of shares to private investors, many of whom are ordinary French citizens. There is strong public enthusiasm for the project, given the success of the Suez Canal, and the company quickly raises significant capital. With the help of the French government, the Panama Canal Company applies for a concession from Colombia, successfully helped along by the credibility of de Lesseps. The French are confident in their thinking that de Lesseps will easily oversee another similar assignment. Not least because

a Panama Canal would be almost three times shorter, a mere 50 miles, compared to the 120-mile Suez Canal. But what they don't know is that this would be nothing like the Suez. For starters, that project was a sea-level canal built through a flat desert. Attempting a similar waterway through panama's mountainous jungle would be far more difficult even so in 1881 the french begin their attempt though many french engineers join the project they also hire workers from the west indies mostly jamaica believing them to be better

suited to the tropical climate in Panama, not to mention cheaper than shipping French laborers across the Atlantic. But once they get started, their efforts are almost immediately mired with obstacles and mistakes. De Lesseps orders the excavation to begin with the Culebra Cut, roughly at the midpoint of the planned canal route. Here they will set to work digging an eight-mile channel through Panama's highland region. It's hard rock rather than soft earth, and they'll have to do the whole job with a team of men armed with picks and dynamite, and some large steam-powered excavating machines called steam shovels. But beyond the challenges of engineering,

the French are also dealing with a much less conspicuous saboteur. Yellow fever and malaria tear through the workforce as they attempt to get the project off the ground. Within months of the work starting, thousands of people lose their lives. Fear of contagion tips the whole operation into a widespread panic. But those in charge are also unwittingly making the problem much worse thanks to what they think is a smart innovation in hospitals.

With the epidemic escalating, the small, temporary hospitals dotted around the isthmus are soon overcrowded. They are also infested with ants, which crawl over patients in swarms. In an attempt to get rid of them, hospital staff place small dishes of water under each bed leg. A clever trick to prevent the insects from climbing up and onto the patients. What they fail to realize is that these dishes of water are the perfect breeding grounds for mosquitoes. And it's the mosquitoes that are responsible for the spreading of the diseases

that are killing 30 to 40 workers per day. There was a massive problem with disease, both malaria and yellow fever. There was tremendous loss of life. It was said that the French officials traveling to Panama carried coffins with them because they knew it was so likely that they might lose their lives while trying to build the canal. Those who are well enough to work do what they can, but the sheer scale of the excavation is beginning to look impossible. Journalists report that 37 million cubic yards of earth must be removed by hand and railroad.

The spoil from such an excavation, it is said, would be enough to build 63 of Egypt's Great Pyramids, or a structure on the scale of the Great Wall of China, from San Francisco to New York. And even when the material is excavated, there's the question of where it goes. No small matter in these conditions. On one particularly hot and humid day, midway through the Panamanian wet season, a downpour induces mudslides, which altogether reverse several months' worth of excavation headway in the primary trench. It will be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Technical setbacks, a spiraling death rate, and equipment failures during the frequent heavy rains all reach their peak at once. Soon, the French have no choice but to admit defeat.

After eight years, with nothing to show for the thousands of deaths and exorbitant costs, the French make the long journey home with their tails between their legs, leaving the land mutilated behind them. The Panama Canal Company has crumbled. One of the more embarrassed of the delegation is Philippe Bonovaria. Having worked his way up under de Lesseps, he had been overseeing the operation as general manager. Though the failure is not his fault, the Frenchman

cannot leave behind the idea of what might still be achieved. Back in France, he quickly conjures an idea for the canal's revival. Encouraging some wealthy peers to invest, mostly a broad mix of private financiers, bankers, and businessmen, a new Panama Canal is established. Buenavarilla and the investors are primarily concerned with recovering some value from the earlier, failed enterprise, either through completing the canal or selling the remaining assets. Buenavarilla becomes the canal's most ardent advocate. He freely admits the failures of the earlier approach, namely the misguided pursuit of a sea-level canal instead of a design using locks, the financial mismanagement and the misunderstanding of disease.

Undertaking a campaign of persuasion, he weaves a path through the labyrinth of global politics. The first step is to lobby the superpower of the moment. Noting their earlier interest had resulted in the Panamanian Railroad, he targets the United States government. However, he finds that the US is investigating an alternative shortcut. Panama sits at the southernmost point of Central America, but 500 miles further north is Nicaragua, a potential alternative canal route.

Though a Panamanian canal would be a quicker path for shipping, many see Nicaragua as a safer option, with a more compliant terrain and flatter geography. Its existing freshwater lakes also offer natural, navigable waterways, which could be integrated into a canal route, meaning less excavation would be needed than in Panama. But Bruno Varia is undeterred. Having now invested both time and money, he has skin in the game. With a combination of media manipulation and personal diplomacy, he works to convince US politicians, business leaders, and the public that Panama is the better location for the

canal. Appealing to economic interests, he argues that purchase of the new Panama Canal Company assets, including the land and whatever remains of machinery and infrastructure, would be of great benefit to the states, a way to secure dominance in global trade and naval power. Why start from scratch, he asks, when they could inherit a head start in Panama? Using the press to sway public opinion, he writes articles and gives interviews promoting the benefits of the route. While he's at it, he doesn't miss the

opportunity to disparage the alternative, repeatedly referencing Nicaragua's chain of active and dormant volcanoes. He even distributes Nicaraguan postage stamps depicting smoking volcanoes around Washington, a stark reminder of the potential dangers of the rival option. A stark reminder of the potential dangers of the rival option. Despite this tireless lobbying, the canal issue is slow-moving within Washington's halls of power. It takes years for new development plans to surface. It's not until 1901, with a new president on the scene, that the winds of change arrive. Theodore Roosevelt, brimming with vigor and vision, sees the canal as not just a notion, but a necessity. Theodore Roosevelt is a fascinating figure.

You know, he's a young, new president. He, from the very beginning, saw the possibility of building a canal across Panama as one of his greatest ambitions. He had a tremendous passion for turning the United States into a global power for a lot of reasons. He believed that the United States was at a point in its history, in its economic strength, technological strength, that it was time for the United States to take its place as one of the great powers of the world.

He believed profoundly in imperialism. He believed it was a virtuous and necessary course for any great nation. and necessary course for any great nation. Bonovaria acts quickly to leverage his political relationships, gaining access to the new president's administration to deliver his Panama Pitch. His lobbying is persuasive, but in the end, an act of God has the final say. 1902 sees the eruption of a major Nicaraguan volcano,

forcing all local residents to evacuate. This tips the scales, and US sites are now firmly set on Panama. But there is a catch. Construction is contingent upon negotiating a fresh treaty to secure the land for the canal. Panama is not an independent country and therefore does not have the final say on Roosevelt's canal plan. He must appeal to Colombia.

Roosevelt begins negotiations. But despite his formidable powers of persuasion, getting what he wants at the right price is no walk in the park. The Colombian Senate refused his overtures. They saw it as a threat to their sovereignty and they believed the money offer was insufficient. So Roosevelt quietly and quickly began encouraging Panamanians who, in their own frustrations as a neglected province, were interested in achieving independence. He sent warships to support their revolt and it happened very quickly and easily. Panama became an independent nation. an independent nation.

One momentous day in November 1903, Panamanians watch as the last Colombian ship in the harbor retreats. The Republic of Panama is born. Backing the Panamanian revolt against Colombian rule may have helped swing things in his favor, but Roosevelt's motivations were far from altruistic. With Panama now a free republic, the U.S. can try anew to negotiate a treaty for the canal, only this time with a country that wants it anyway.

Panama appoints Buenavaria as representative to negotiate construction terms with the states. Within a few weeks, together with U Secretary of State John Hay, he drafts the Hay-Buenavaria Treaty, marking the official beginning of US control over the canal's construction. In signing the treaty, Buenavaria ensures that the US purchase the remaining assets from the new Panama Canal Company for $40 million, giving his French investors a way to recoup their losses. On top of this, the treaty states that the US will pay Panama $10 million for a perpetual lease on the land, plus $250,000 annually in rent.

$250,000 annually in rent. A weak deal by modern standards, but Panama can now control their own interests without answering to the whims and demands of Colombia. And, as for the US, well, they have what they wanted. The land on which to build the greatest waterway the world has ever seen. Inheriting from the French what is essentially a ditch, the US planners quickly realize that the Panamanian Isthmus is one of the most difficult spots in the world in which to construct a channel. The mountainous terrain of this continental divide separates a

major ocean on either side. It's also notoriously prone to landslides. The Americans will need to entirely re-engineer the natural landscape. The US quickly decided that this needed to be a lock canal rather than sea level, which was the right decision. Basically, they would flood the lock with water, the ship would rise up within it, and then rise up to the level of Gatun Lake, cross through Gatun Lake, which at the time I think was the largest human-made lake in the world, and then go to lochs on the other side where it would be lowered back down to sea level. The plan is to create the canal through the narrowest part of the country,

between Panama City on the Pacific and Cologne on the Atlantic. It's approximately 50 miles long, with 40 miles of lowlands but 10 miles of rugged mountains, primarily what becomes known as the Culebra Cut. This mountainous section presents the most challenging

ground, requiring significant excavation. The Panama Railroad already spans this route, but will need to be upgraded in order to handle increased loads during construction. Once the central trench is dug, about 300 feet wide and 40 feet deep to allow large ships to pass each other, it will need stabilization. The steepest sides, especially in the Culebra Cut, will be reinforced with concrete retaining walls to prevent collapse. a series of locks to raise and lower ships between sea level and an artificial freshwater reservoir gatun lake which will be created by damming the chagres river and flooding a large area of jungle the lake will provide the water necessary to operate the locks the route is plotted through largely undeveloped land or rainforest but some towns lay in

its path, and the people living there will be displaced. It is both disruptive and daring. Sea-level canals are mostly just excavation and dirt disposal. Locks, on the other hand, require significant manufacturing. The project is going to need workers, and lots of them. The Panamanian population is insufficient for such a project, so the US seeks to recruit from the Caribbean. Of particular interest are skilled workers from British colonies like Barbados. At first, the Caribbean governments are reluctant to allow recruitment. At the end of the

French period of construction, many West Indian laborers had been stranded in Panama and had to be repatriated at their government's expense. But seeing a solution to its unemployment problem, the Barbadian government now agrees to facilitate recruitment for the U.S. authorities. government now agrees to facilitate recruitment for the US authorities. For the most part, the workers are happy to go. Though it's been some 60 years since the abolition of slavery there, many are still struggling to make ends meet, or raise funds to relocate away from the sites of their ancestors' exploitation. Faced with few options for employment, many work on plantations for a negligible wage. The US wields this to their advantage.

With no legislation in place to protect the tens of thousands of workers, they are confident that the laborers' economic desperation will ensure compliance, regardless of the conditions. Across the Caribbean islands, labour recruitment drives promote good working conditions, fair wages and free repatriation. From 1904, workers are swiftly imported into the canal zone by the thousands. Soon, almost 20,000 Barbadian laborers are working on the canal project, around 40% of the island's adult men. Bringing with them little more than the clothes on their backs, the new recruits look forward to the utopian conditions they have been promised.

When the recruits disembark after weeks of sailing, they are transported on carts and by railroad, though most are left to walk many miles inland along the canal's construction zone. But when they eventually reach their designated bases, they find them to be mere sheds. As for the work, it is physically demanding and often dangerous. Conditions are no better than at home, often with 14-hour days spent shoveling earth and handling explosives. In this first year or two of construction, most laborers are sent to work on the Culebra Cut,

the continental divide at the heart of the Isthmus, where the majority of the excavation is required. Though their French predecessors had begun to carve their way through the cut, by the time the Americans arrive, the tropical climate has reclaimed much of the terrain. The abandoned French project has not only destabilized the area and rendered it vulnerable to landslides and erosion, but has also left behind jagged, unfinished walls, large piles of earth, and rusting equipment. The task before them involves the creation of an artificial valley through an eight-mile mountainous stretch.

After first laying dynamite, thousands of workers then clear away the rubble using shovels and wheelbarrows. They're aided by steam shovels which scoop the waste and dump it into three-sided train cars waiting on the railway which runs alongside the canal zone. The cut becomes a cauldron of noise with roaring locomotives and belching machinery. Risks of death range from drowning to electrocution. There are torrential downpours and temperatures high enough to earn it the nickname Hell's Gorge. But it is worse for some than others. The workforce is segregated by race and skill level, and split into a two-tier payroll system. Workers on what is called the gold roll are mostly white Americans and Europeans. Holding skilled positions, such as engineers, machinists, and foremen, they are paid significantly more, but also receive perks and promotions. Free housing of a good standard, and paid leave of up to six weeks a year, including free travel back to the States.

They can also access purpose-built recreational facilities like tennis courts and baseball fields and travel around the area for free. Meanwhile, those on the silver role, mostly Afro-Caribbeans, are assigned to the most physically demanding, dangerous jobs such as digging, shoveling, and loading debris. They live like second-class citizens, in substandard shacks, with bad food, long hours, and much lower pay. One official who was responsible for providing the Afro-Caribbeans with food said, We feed them pretty much just like we feed our cows back home in Nebraska, out of these big troughs. They would bring their own little plates and cups and be spooned out some food and then go find some place to sit and eat it.

find some place to sit and eat it. Whereas the white U.S. skilled workers, white officials, had nice hotels, nice cafeterias, ice in their drinks. So conditions could not have been more different for the white U.S. workers versus the Afro-Caribbeans. But conscious of the failings of their predecessors, the U.S. officials keep a close eye on the diseases which decimated the French effort. Though it is still widely believed that filth and airborne bacteria cause yellow fever and malaria, Chief Sanitary Officer Dr. William Gorgas

is among the doctors who suspects a different cause. Himself a yellow fever survivor, Gorgas is convinced that mosquitoes are to blame for the spread of tropical diseases. He connects the disproportionate number of malaria deaths amongst silver roll workers and their substandard living quarters without mosquito-proof screens, and knows what must be done. without mosquito-proof screens and knows what must be done. Spearheading a massive public health campaign in the Canal Zone,

he orders the fumigation of buildings, the drainage of stagnant water pools and installation of screens on windows and gutters. To smother mosquito larvae, he has health officials spray oil on top of any smaller puddles of rainwater. Yellow fever on the isthmus begins to decline, and by the end of 1906 it's largely eradicated. Though not as successfully suppressed, malaria is nonetheless contained and deaths drop significantly. Workers are given quinine to drink, though the medicine comes with complications of its own, and many report hearing loss as a side effect. The inability to hear makes deadly railroad accidents a regular occurrence.

But it's still the lower-paid workers who face the greatest risks. That arduous labor mostly was done by these Afro-Caribbean workers. They were the ones who were planting the dynamite, setting it off. They were the ones digging out when there was an avalanche. They were working during these torrential rainfalls. There were a large number of accidents and deaths from all of this. Deaths from premature dynamite explosions. One worker talked about a massive explosion that killed many men and said, the flesh of men flew in the air like birds that day. Those lucky enough to survive such accidents often sustain gruesome injuries, many of which

require amputation. So the makeshift field hospitals resemble those of a war zone. In fact, so many are maimed that artificial limb-makers begin competing for highly coveted contracts with the U.S. government. As the intensive work continues, workers are becoming increasingly aware of their unequal and substandard conditions. Discontent rises,

and the U.S. implement more authoritarian tactics against subordination, even importing a large police force to maintain order. Throughout the U.S. construction effort, workers used their own agency to shape conditions in a way that would make their lives easier. They resisted some aspects of U.S. control. Increasingly, the U.S. had to rely on draconian methods to control its workforce. They would sentence people to prison

if they weren't working productively. They'd make them do prison labor, building roads. They had the power to deport anyone who was not working productively and did deport people. They used labor spies. They made unions. All of these things to try and ensure that workers focused specifically on the labor that was needed to build the canal. So workers, bit by bit bit found in the way that oppressed people do everywhere found subtle subterranean ways of improving their own lives. The men begin to rely on their own mobility for betterment. Those on the silver role might

alternate their jobs, change their names, their homes, or move to a different part of the zone to find a kind of foreman who might pay them a little bit more. More workers move out of government quarters, tired of the surveillance, and begin building places for themselves in the jungle, or moving to the port cities. Now, three years into construction on the Culebra Cut, it is time to tackle the structural points along the canal zone, working from the outer ends and back in towards the center. Simultaneous construction begins on the Gatun Locks on the Atlantic side of the isthmus and the Miraflores Lock locks on the opposite Pacific side.

Dams are built to create artificial lakes which will fill the enormous trenches and locks. The Gamboa dike is also under construction. Built upstream of the Culebra Cut construction zone, its job is to temporarily hold back the Chagres River, which would otherwise flow into the excavation site and flood the Culebrakat prematurely. Once constructed, the dike will be in place until the dams, the lake and the locks are ready, allowing the controlled flooding of the canal trenches.

The process of laying the foundation for the locks involves digging into solid bedrock to provide a stable base. Concrete is then poured to form the foundation of the consecutive chambers of the locks, each 1,000 feet long. When it's finally ready, a ship needing to traverse the elevated route will begin by being floated into the lowest chamber in shallow water. Once the lock gates are shut behind her, the lock will fill up, raising the level of the ship, ready to pass into the next chamber at a higher elevation, and so on. In order to control the flow of water, a complex network of tunnels, pipes and valves is created beneath the locks, operated by electric motors via a central above-ground control station.

As the years pass, piece by piece, the dams, lakes and locks near completion. One day in 1913, steam shovel 222 and steam shovel 230, digging towards each other from opposite directions directions finally meet in the base of the Culebra Cut. The excavation is complete and there is now only one thing missing, the water. The final obstacle is the Gamboa Dike, which is holding back the waters of the Chagres River from flooding the cut. Blowing up this dike will allow water to flow through the cut and effectively join the two oceans. The stage is set.

It is the 10th of October, 1913. The 28th President of the United States, Woodrow Wilson, is in the White House. Only a few months into his term in office, he has a big day ahead. The place is a hive of activity. As he sits, checking over some papers, staffers bustle in and out of the Oval Office, back and forth with telegrams, messages and calls. But among the usual faces, there is also a team of engineers. They have been working all morning to install a telegraph line attached to a button which sits on top of Wilson's desk. After tightening the last screws, they start to sweep up the debris and pack up their tools,

leaving the nation's leader to do the important part. Because this line connects directly to seven metric tons of dynamite over 3,000 miles away, deep within the Culebra Cut in Panama. When the button is pressed, it will complete an electrical circuit which will detonate the explosives in the Gamboa dike. When the dike falls, the canal will complete its own circuit, connecting the two immense oceans on either side of the Panamanian Isthmus. Now a cabinet assistant approaches the desk, advising the president that the press have arrived. Soon, the room begins to fill up with reporters and photographers, setting up right in front

of him, all of them eager to capture this historic moment. An engineer makes a final check of the equipment, then gives a nod. It's ready. Just a few minutes to go. Wilson straightens his tie, pulls at his collar, and arranges himself comfortably behind the desk while the flash guns pop. All the while, the button sits waiting just an arm's length away. He glances at the clock, and with a nod from his secretary,

he lays his hand gently on the button. A countdown begins. Five, four, three. And at two p.m. exactly, he presses down. Thousands of miles away, hundreds of workers, officials, and onlookers are waiting under the wide Panamanian sky, gathered at a safe distance from the dike. As the circuit completes with the force of Wilson's palm, it finally happens. The explosives detonate throughout the Culebra Cut with a force so great that the surrounding hills shake. Rocks are thrown high into the sky and the water, once held back, gushes over the ruins of the dike. Deep within the Culebra Cut, the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans are linked for the first time, amid the cheers and celebrations of those who finally made it happen.

amid the cheers and celebrations of those who finally made it happen. The Gamboa Dike is swept away, and with it the dream of centuries has become a reality. The Panama Canal is complete. Meanwhile, from his chair, at his desk in his Oval Office, Woodrow Wilson smiles for the cameras. By late summer 1914, after a decade of construction, the canal is ready for use. Plans are made for the first ocean-to-ocean transit

on August the 15th, which will mark the official opening. The SS Ancon, itself having transported many laborers to Panama, is chosen to be the first ship to traverse the official opening. The SS Ancon, itself having transported many laborers to Panama, is chosen to be the first ship to traverse the entire route. But by now, the world is at war. The inaugural crossing of the Great Panama Canal is buried in the back pages of newspapers, filled with stories about the great conflict in Europe.

Plans are then made for a celebration of the waterway's completion on New Year's Day, 1915. A fleet of warships is to assemble and sail through the Panama Canal, then onto San Francisco, arriving in time for the opening of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, intended to showcase American achievements and celebrate the canal's completion. But the war, which famously was expected by many to be over by Christmas, instead accelerates, and though the exposition goes ahead, the celebration does not. At a cost of $350 million on the day of its unveiling, the Panama Canal is the most expensive construction

project in US history. At first, canal traffic is low. Outside of military use, two world wars greatly impact the flow of commercial cargo. However, the global economic landscape changes drastically after World War II, and the canal becomes an essential part of international shipping. 20 million net tons of cargo passes through the canal in 1946. By 1977, that figure has soared to around 138 million tons. The canal zone remains under the control of the United States until a major development shakes up the status quo.

Inspired by the nationalization of the Suez Canal in 1956, the Panamanian government plans to regain control of their land. During the U.S. construction project, the United States really erased the importance of the role of the country of Panama. They tended not to acknowledge it in their diplomatic memos. The celebration that was held at the Panama Pacific Exposition, the World's Fair held to celebrate the canal, really minimized the role of Panama because the U.S. wanted to broadcast this as a triumph of itself,

you know, a triumph of American know-how and technological superiority. So Panama always felt erased and ignored. There were tremendous grievances on the part of Panamanians and tremendous struggles over the years for equality, for a way of diminishing the power of the United States. That ultimate achievement of winning control over the canal that it had made possible was a huge, a huge moment of national pride for Panamanians.

Even so, it's not until the 1970s that the US and Panama negotiate an agreement about the future of the waterway. The Panama Canal Treaty is signed on September 7, 1977 by Panamanian Chief of Government Omar Torrijos and US President Jimmy Carter. It guarantees the neutrality of the canal and states that the United States will relinquish control by the year 2000. The peaceful transfer comes just as a new millennium is dawning. It is the afternoon of New Year's Eve, 1999.

A little girl holds her grandfather's hand as she walks from her home in the west of Panama City. There is a touch of tropical warmth in the air and a sense of celebration among the city folk who are making the same journey. After a while they come to a clearing and the girl is hoisted onto her grandfather's shoulders. From this new vantage point she looks out onto the Miraflores locks. The administration building, which sits beside the locks, is decorated in grand floral arrangements.

A temporary stage has been erected outside the building, as well as many rows of seats. Beyond this lies the canal and the great mechanical lock structures. More and more people gather along the water's edge. Many are in traditional clothing, with long white dresses and white cotton shirts covered in colorful embroidery. Men, women, and children, they are united by national pride, flags gripped in their hands, catching the wind. The girl's grandfather tells her that today, the U.S. will officially hand over control of the canal, putting the waterway into

Panamanian hands for the first time and forever. The crowd stands to attention as a woman in a cream-colored suit walks out onto the stage. The girl recognizes her from a lesson in school. This is the president Mireya Moscoso, and following her out now is former U.S. President Jimmy Carter. Next to him is King Juan Carlos of Spain. The excited chatter dies down, and the crowd falls silent as Moscoso delivers a proud, patriotic speech. The American flag, its stars and stripes by now so familiar to the little girl, is then lowered from its ceremonial post on the lock. Then, with cheers erupting through the crowd,

the flag of Panama is hoisted, triumphant to the top of the mast. Now the party can get started. The atmosphere turns from one of patriotic formality to true carnival, with music blaring from speakers in front of the building. As the sun begins to set, giant, festive pleasure boats, colourfully festooned with fairy lights, glide along the water in celebration. The girl and her family join crowds dancing along the banks of the canal, passing street vendors selling empanadas, musicians playing traditional music, and restaurants serving rum cocktails and sparkling wine, ready to toast the new year.

At the stroke of midnight, the skies above the canal and over Panama City explode in glorious displays of fireworks. The little girl is swept up in the joy of the celebration. With the dawn of a new millennium, she is witnessing the birth of a new era for Panama. The Panama Canal is now proud of its place as one of the undisputed engineering wonders of the world. But there is no doubt that it came at great cost. No single construction effort in American history has exacted such a price, either in dollars or in human life

Expenditure on the project since 1904 totaled $352 million, four times what the Suez Canal had cost, without even considering the sum spent by the preceding French company French company. In the ten years of the American project, 5,609 lives were lost to disease and the equivalent of 500 lives for each mile of canal. Notably, only around 6% of those who died were white. Today, the canal is constantly evolving. 2016 saw the completion of an ambitious expansion project, culminating in the opening of a new set of locks. To this day, the canal remains a vital passageway in the global supply chain and will remain essential for years to come. The original locks, now over 100 years old, are projected to continue operating indefinitely.

The story of the Panama Canal is one of human ambition and the relentless pursuit of a dream, whatever the cost. And, though marred by the extraordinary sacrifice made by so many to turn that vision into reality, it stands as a monumental triumph over adversity, achieved by sheer determination, ingenuity, and cooperation. The construction of the Panama Canal was such a spectacular project on every level, really. It was arguably the largest human infrastructural project in history up to that time.

It changed the Western Hemisphere in the ways that it created these new demographic migratory flows. The human level of effort and sometimes joy and sometimes pain and tragedy of so many humans' lives permanently changed by this, both within Panama, across much of the rest of Central America, the Caribbean, and the United States. It's just a tremendous level of change. So by any measurement, the construction of the Panama Canal

is just a spectacular thing. Next time on Short History Of, we'll bring you a short history of Beatrix Potter. I think the things that make her an interesting feminine role model are the fact that she managed to change her life so dramatically from its early Victorian, slightly restricted beginnings to the woman that she became, hard work, determination, and a desire for independence. All those characteristics helped her to overcome the fact that she was a woman, really, in what was then still very much a man's world. That's next time. If you can't wait a week until the next episode, you can listen to it right away by subscribing to Noisa Plus. Head to www.noisa.com forward slash subscriptions for more information.