Commemorative Assembly of the Naval Battle of Iquique 2025

Juan Carlos Galdámez Naranjo LLM (Wales, UK)

Chairman of the Board of Governors

The Mackay School

Words delivered by the Chairman of the Board of Governors at the Commemorative Assembly of the Naval Battle of Iquique 2025

Iquique 1879: A Deed That Demands a Moral Reading, Not Just Historical Memory

We gather here today, as we do each year, to commemorate one of the most noble and significant deeds in our naval history -and indeed in the annals of naval history worldwide:

The Naval Battle of Iquique.

Every 21st of May, and in the days leading up to it, thousands of students, public officials, and citizens across Chile solemnly recall this historic battle. Flags are raised, the tactical developments of the engagement are recounted, speeches are delivered, and the stirring words of Prat and his heroic boarding of the Huáscar are once again invoked.

And yet, we believe that the true value of this date does not lie in the ritual repetition of events, but in their living, ethical, and ever-present reinterpretation.

The deed of Prat at Iquique is not truly ours if we merely remember it; it becomes ours only when we understand it and live its profound moral meaning—personal, timeless, and transformative.

Iquique speaks to us -but not in the past tense. It speaks to us now. 

It speaks above all through the character of some of its most notable protagonists, whom we honour today.

More than just remembering Iquique 1879, we must listen to its enduring message.

The heroism of Iquique must not be understood solely as a historical episode frozen in 1879. Rather, it stands as a continuous call, a summons to the soul of Chile and especially to the conscience of each generation.

Its power lies not only in the bravery displayed that day, but in what that courage reveals about human character, duty, and dignity.

Prat did not die to be remembered. He died because he believed that there are principles worth not only dying for, but, above all, living for.

To recount the facts without reflecting on their meaning is to reduce history to a postcard.

The deed of Iquique does not ask us to recite data, but to turn inwards—here, today, at this nearly bicentenary institution—and ask ourselves:

What meaning does it have, here at The Mackay School, to speak of Arturo Prat?

Why recall, as we shall, Doña Carmela Carvajal, his wife and companion?

Why is it that we, at The Mackay School, are called to do more than pay tribute in a ceremonial act?

Because, in truth, when we heed the enduring message of Iquique, we come to realise that our guiding motto, Vincit qui se Vincit, “He conquers who conquers himself” , the very phrase engraved upon our insignias, is not some museum relic. 

It is a universal moral principle.

And Arturo Prat and Doña Carmela Carvajal, each in their own right, are living embodiments of that principle.

It is the same formative principle upon which this school was founded, 22 years before the Naval Battle of Iquique.

Today, the challenges no longer appear as enemy warships, but as indifference, complacency, mediocrity, selfishness, corruption, and social mistrust.

Today, heroism lies in consistency, in honest effort, in defence of truth, in respect for others, and in unwavering commitment to the common good.

The present-day battle is not waged at sea, but within our own consciences. It challenges our character, relentlessly.

Thus, reading Iquique in the present tense is not optional, it is urgent.

And to educate around that deed is to shape character, integrity, and ethical leadership.

Arturo Prat did not become a hero through his boarding manoeuvre.

That was merely the outward expression of a life marked by self-discipline, sobriety, and moral coherence.

His true heroism began long before: when, aged ten, he entered the Naval Academy and chose to serve his country never seeking personal glory; when he studied law by night while continuing his naval duties; when he defended his friend Carlos Condell from false accusations; when he wrote letters brimming with tenderness to his mother and wife; when he treated his subordinates with genuine respect; when he taught at a humble school in Valparaíso.

And when, in October 1877, he saw the Esmeralda ablaze in Valparaíso Bay -not yet her commander, but a mere officer among her crew- he leapt into the sea from the pier to aid his fellow sailors, without orders, driven solely by duty. 

To him, Esmeralda was not a ship—it was his responsibility.

Leadership, in his eyes, was not something one shouted—it was something one embodied.

He was among the first to board the burning vessel, helped organise the firefighting efforts, and remained until all were safe. His superiors and peers alike praised him—not merely for his physical courage, but for his quiet, decisive leadership in a moment of crisis.

Though less famous than his final act, this episode reveals Prat’s deep coherence:

• For him, duty was not rhetorical, it was concrete.
• Honour was not measured in grand gestures, but in being present when needed.
• Leadership was not proclaimed—it was embodied.

This, too, proves that his heroism did not begin on 21 May 1879. It began much earlier, in acts like this:

• When the officer became a servant;
• When the citizen became a guardian;
• When the man conquered himself to rise to the call of duty.

If one word defines his life, it is: honour.

Not honour as social ornament, but as the will and action to remain faithful to the good, to what is right, to say the truth, to act justly, to resist the easy path.

Prat was not honourable because he died for Chile. He was honourable because he lived without betraying himself. And therein lies his greatness: not in glory, but in unwavering consistency.

He conquered himself daily, and so, on 21 May, he was able to face overwhelming odds with resolve. And yet, such resolve did not arise in a vacuum, it was forged at home.

He had a mother who taught him duty.

He had a household that grounded him.

He had Doña Carmela Carvajal, his wife, his partner, his mirror.

She was integral to his vocation. She supported him silently, writing to him, encouraging him, waiting for him.

And when he fell, Doña Carmela stood tall. With resolve, with fortitude, with a dignity that sought no stage but sustained a family and shaped a legacy.

A legacy so powerful that it awakened an entire nation, which—following the example of her fallen husband—rose to carry Chile to ultimate victory.

Doña Carmela spoke words that still echo in our spirit—words that inspire and exemplify strength:

“I did not weep for him merely as a wife,

I wept for him as a Chilean.

He was not mine—he belonged to the nation.

It was my honour to share his destiny,

and my children’s glory to bear his name.”

Heroism, too, is shared. It is supported. It is sustained by love.

For the family is the first workshop of virtue.

It is there that we learn to speak the truth, though it may hurt; to rise, though it may be hard; to respect, even when inconvenient. 

It is where the character is nurtured that later flourishes in great trials.

Prat was able to conquer himself in his darkest hour because he first forged his character in the ordinary days.

That learning began in a family that raised him not for glory, but for integrity.

So, dear students, should you ever feel weakened, lost in the noise of the world, 

turn to those who loved you first:

• To the mother who guides in silence,
• To the father who pushes with quiet resolve,
• To the grandmother who prays, unseen,
• To the siblings who walk beside you,
• To the friends with whom you share this journey at The Mackay School, and shall continue to do so, as has long been our proud tradition.

Because the deepest heroism often does not roar—it whispers.

And it springs from that love which sustains without demanding, believes without seeing, forms without expecting return.

Just as Esmeralda carried Prat into history, it was his family that built his strength.

And that, too, is the most vital battle: the one fought daily in the heart of the home.

Thus, in this commemoration, we honour not only the hero who fell, but the home that raised him.

Not only the naval epic, but the moral epic of a family who knew how to form, support, and uphold.

Our motto, Vincit qui se Vincit:

Is a timeless truth:

• He conquers who conquers himself,
• who orders his soul,
• who lives by principle.

Such character does not emerge alone.

At The Mackay School, it has been forged for nearly 168 years, and it is upheld by the families we honour today.

Dear students:

You may never be called to board an enemy vessel.

But I assure you, life will always demand courage, resilience, and resolve.

And plenty of it.

• You will be asked to rise after failure.
• To persevere when your strength wanes.
• To speak truth when silence is easier.
• To honour your word.
• To work diligently even when unobserved.
• To act with integrity in every exam.
• To respect your teachers in their noble role.
• To face and overcome fears and weaknesses, without abandoning your values.
• Above all, to respect yourselves.

This will be your daily Iquique.

And for such challenges—character is indispensable.

Thus, at The Mackay School, we do not seek solely academic or sporting excellence, or fluency in a language.

We strive for something deeper:

To form you as whole individuals, who understand that true victory lies not in defeating others, but in continually conquering yourselves, and serving the common good.

This is our call to you.

This is what our motto urges.

Do not merely display the insignia on your chest, live the profound, personal meaning etched upon it.

For when

• you cultivate character,
• you honour the truth,
• you act with integrity and live with temperance,

then,

the very same principles that guided Prat and Doña Carmela live on in each of you.

That is the deepest meaning of honouring Iquique—not merely recalling what happened on 21 May 1879, but discovering what it means for each of us today.

Let this history awaken your conscience—not pass over you as mere fact, but remain as a personal challenge.

Here lies the true value of commemoration:

• to transform the past into an instrument for growth;
• to touch our conscience—not merely refresh our memory.
• History does not ask to be repeated. It demands a response.

Memory without conscience is but empty repetition.

But living memory, assimilated as a lesson in life, is profound learning, full of meaning and purpose.

And the truest response lies not in ceremony, but in the inspiration, it kindles, to lead lives of coherence, day by day.

Therefore,

I invite you all to commit to yourselves, so that this 21st of May, 2025, 

is not merely another commemoration.

• Let it be a quiet awakening.
• A seed of conviction.
• A silent promise to live with honour.

Always remember: Vincit qui se Vincit

He conquers who conquers himself, 

This is the direct path, without shortcuts, toward true freedom, and towards the awakening of the inner greatness to which each of you is called.

May God bless you all.