Make Us Good Again
It was Ignacio Allende's birthday a
couple of days ago, and his home town, San Miguel de Allende
"celebrated" the day with bands (those off-key military drum and
bugle bands that thankfully exist only in Mexico). There was a big parade,
military displays, and several fly-overs of military plane trainers. Allende,
with Father Miguel Hidalgo and two others, were the authors, in September,
1810, of Mexico's revolt against Spain -- a revolution that took over a decade
to complete. As is so often the case in Mexican history, heroism in a good
cause precedes tragedy by only a few steps. Allende, Hidalgo, and the two
others were caught (in different locations) and killed before firing squads,
after which their heads were cut off and displayed for over four years on the
four corners of the armory in Guanajuato. By 1821, the revolution was a
success, but in Mexico success always seems to be blended with tragedy and,
ironically, with defeat as well. Despite the democratic impulses and
constitutional initiatives of Benito Juarez, Mexico's first native president,
later in the 19th century, Mexico suffered from the internal forces of class,
wealth and corruption versus the people. Externally, it encountered an
aggressive U. S. under President Polk, which contrived a war against Mexico,
defeated Mexico, and under the guise of "purchasing" New Mexico and
Arizona and part of California, essentially stole the northern properties of
that country. I have recently been given a red hat a la Trump with the message
on top: "Make America Mexico
Again." The losses to the U.S. are never forgotten here.
The worst was not over for Mexico.
In 1910, Mexicans were again compelled to revolt against a corrupt Porforio
Diaz government, and had to suffer U. S. meddling once again before
establishing a democratic and more equalitarian nation. But the history of
Mexico continues to be one of struggle -- a struggle against profound poverty,
a struggle against a newly capricious U. S., a struggle for better health care
(they have universal health care, at least, which is more than the U. S. can
claim), and a struggle for better education.
Tragedy and struggle are ubiquitous
in this country. As the bands and the military organized to march in
celebration of Allende's birthday, a protest of some 200 or so men, women, and
children temporarily blocked their path, surrounded by a large and hostile
police force. The protest had to do with an incident this last week just
outside of San Miguel. Reports have it that the police were attempting to
apprehend a fleeing criminal. They entered a compound and apparently engaged in
a gun battle with someone. After the shoot-out, three children were found dead
in the compound. Protesters suspect the police were somehow involved in the
killings, but that was not the official version of events. Instead, the police
arrested the father for the killings, after his wife accused him of the
killings (she has since recanted that accusation). He now grieves in jail. Who
knows if we will ever know the truth about this incident? But the double
tragedy of this case is emblematic of the struggles this country always seems
to suffer.
What is the point I am trying to
establish here? I suppose some might simply say that we should all be thankful
that we have not had to live Mexico's history or through its present problems. I
would contend, however, that we North Americans -- especially Americans -- have
much to learn from the interrelationships of struggle, tragedy, and the humility
that follows, with which so many Mexicans have lived over time.
After the mid-twentieth century, we
North Americans unconsciously assumed that a kind of inevitable social and
economic progress would continue forever. Americans basked in the victories of
WWII, and the positive international order they helped to create after the war.
Americans also assumed even more unconsciously that the rationalism of the
18th-century Enlightenment, which they embraced in the American Revolution and
through the establishment of the U. S. Constitution, would somehow continue
forward as America's legacy to the world. And, North Americans generally
assumed that the vast middle class created for a brief time in the mid to late
20th century would also last forever.
All of these formerly solid
foundations seem lost forever or appear badly crippled. Democracy still exists,
in name, but money now controls politics almost completely, and instead of
economic prosperity for people, the global economy, a fictive monster, simply
feeds itself.
What resources are left? A
compelling desire for freedom and equality remains, but it is based more on a
passive "freedom from" than an active "freedom for," while
equality before the law has narrowed its focus to matters of race and sex and
identity rather than matters of economic equality.
In some ways, therefore, we might
look at our future as a tabula rasa.
Enlightenment principles are hard to re-establish (although they must be in
relation to Climate Change, or what June now calls, World Wide Death). For
Americans, popular mythologies need to put to rest as well. Americans must
abandon the myth of exceptionalism. They must stop talking in terms of being
the "leader of the free world." In short, they must begin to
recognize the myriad of tragedies that they have encountered, especially since
Vietnam. They need to accept the grief that the recent federal election has
imposed upon them. Suffering and struggle must be seen as part of the American
experience as it always has been in the Mexican experience. Americans must get
out of the slumber of being politically ignorant and culturally arrogant. They
need to become attentive and engaged on a continuing basis. Casual assumptions
about a prosperous and free future need to be abandoned.
The
U. S. and Canada are not Mexico but without vigorous political engagement,
economic inequality will continue to rise, plutocracy will increase, education
(perhaps the most important advantage to Americans and Canadians) will decline
badly, and our values will continue to be eroded. The answer, at least for me,
is to be more attentive in all ways,
not just in politics but in charity and thought and deed. It is to be outraged, and to say so loudly to all
who will listen and to those who at first will not listen, when outrage is the
proper response to events. For all of their setbacks and through all of the
repressions they suffer either directly or indirectly, many Mexicans do not
hesitate to express outrage. And, it is to be loving, kind and caring whenever it is necessary and however we can.
These are my New Year's resolutions, and they will be hard to maintain, but if,
in the long history of Mexico, Mexicans have continued to strive, I can at least
make my own personal effort.