A Modest Proposal: Mexico, Canada, and the "Citizens United" decision

As a loyal Canadian, and someone devoted to American constitutionalism, let me make the following "modest proposal" (with apologies to Jonathan Swift). Pemex, the state oil company of Mexico, and Petro-Canada, the at-arms-length-from-direct-government-control Canadian petroleum company, should form an American "dumby" corporation -- what used to be called in the good old days, before Progressivism ruined everything in the early 20th century, a "holding" company. This company could incorporate in N. J. or N. Y. or Massachusetts, or wherever the most troublesome progressive Democrats and judges run for office. (Any first-year law student should be able to write up articles of incorporation that will pass muster in the U. S. and in these states).

Once this corporation is established, it can support candidates for federal office in the U. S., or for elected judges who might be critical to decisions important to Canadian-Mexican interests. Better yet, as a "new citizen" of the U. S., this corporation -- let's call it "Friends of American Democracy" or maybe "F___k American Democracy," both say the same thing in modern American political double-speak -- can work to defeat candidates who think that the Mexicans are just a little too lax in the methods they use to extract oil or distribute and refine it, or who think the Alberta oil sands (i.e., "tar sands") are an environmental corruption.

In addition, being the largest suppliers of oil to the U. S. -- something Americans cannot grasp given American fascination with a Middle East that always puzzles them -- Mexico and Canada can demand some quid pro quo from the U. S. Congress. In regard to the Mexican half of our new "F_____ American Democracy" "new-citizen" corporation, how about getting candidates to oppose any fence across Mexico's northern border, giving full amnesty to illegal immigrants working in the U. S. (i. e., those Mexicans who almost always out-perform Americans incapable of competing with them in wages or in quality of work), and engineering a special deal for poor Mexican corn growers who cannot compete against corn from the Midwest U. S. -- corn that is subsidized by as much as 50% of crop value. Canadians can demand that Americans quit harassing their border with idiotic security plans that have little or nothing to do with security. Canadians might want to get an even better auto-pact, and other trade advantages.

Mexicans and Canadians should revel in the opportunities that the Citizens United decision affords them. A few million dollars is nothing -- truly nothing -- compared to the advantages that these two countries might exact from a nation that does not even know that they -- Mexico and Canada -- exist. (For American readers, let me remind you that Mexico is that strange elongated one to the south, the one that used to own California and New Mexico and Arizona, and , oh yes, Texas. Canada is the cold one to the north -- but you knew that, didn't you -- the second largest country in landmass in the world). Oh, but you say that you know that tourists go to Mexico: well, then, maybe Mexico could get a special tax on American tourists who loiter on their beaches. Oh, and you have heard of Eskimos (they aren't all American, you know) and baby seals so maybe Canada could get the U. S. to end any contention over Canadian sovereignty over the Arctic. Jeez, you have to love the American brand of democracy and the Citizens United Supreme Court ruling. Americans truly are ahead of the rest of the world. They have seen the intelligence in giving away their manufacturing to anyone who will work for a penny an hour less than will their workers, in exchange for the celestial level of having a "service" economy only. And, best of all, they are willing to sell the bothersome governance of their country, and the decisions of their judges, to the highest bidder. What genius!!

Opposite Directions: Mexico and the U. S. Respond to Swine Flu

     My friend Jim Ellsworth, a permanent resident in San Miguel de Allende, was the first to introduce me to this old parable about Mexicans. "Two men -- one American, one Mexican -- try unsuccessfully to catch  a departing bus.  The American says: 'Damn, I missed the bus.' The Mexican says: 'The bus left without me.'" This popular portrayal of Mexicans as people who do not take personal responsibility, who do not admit their failings, or do not acknowledge that they need to correct something that has gone wrong, is becoming increasingly inaccurate. But even when it resonates with accuracy, it is just a reflection of a country in which great wealth held by a few overwhelms the great mass of people who have very little. The parable of not being responsible is the parable of a people with limited personal agency. They cannot be the author of their destinies since those are controlled by a system of class and wealth that is nearly closed. So, why should they assume personal responsibility when such a claim of agency (responsibility) can only be taken in the negative -- applied against their failings, and never taken in the positive -- never applied to their advancement and advantage.

     Americans, by contrast, see themselves as possessing nothing but personal agency, from colonial Puritans (ironically) to modern day marketing majors. Each one of us, it is presumed (often inaccurately), are the agents of our own future and of our own success and wealth. Unfortunately, when a sense of agency is exaggerated -- as it invariably is in the United States -- the consequences can be grotesque. First, if someone or some group of people are the necessary human agents behind a turn of events, then when bad things happen on a broad scale, someone has to be responsible for inflicting these bad consequences upon us. Historically, if Americans have not been able to identify the villain(s) clearly, this psychology leads to conspiracy theories. Secondly, if the villain(s) who have inflicted bad things cannot be identified early on, and the bad things persist and grow (e.g., the recent swine flu "pandemic"), Americans react with fear and suspicion. Both of these tendencies were historically revealed most fully and clearly in the Red Scare of 1919, and the Communist Conspiracy scare of the early 1950s.

     I watched with perverse interest, therefore, when the "swine flu" emerged from Mexico last month. I say "perverse" interest because, although I was residing in Mexico at the time, I got almost all of my "news" from CNN (the only English language news channel available in our casita). The grotesque appeal to fear and panic by CNN (an appeal offered in the face of the testimony of the "experts" they interviewed, who counseled calm attentiveness), would have been humorous, if the CNN appeal had not been so cravenly driven by the pretty girls and pretty boys who pose as serious journalists on CNN's broadcasts. After a few days of watching

CNN, we clearly understood only two things:  that we were learning precious little of value about the swine flu, and that 90% of what we heard and saw was the moral equivalent of brainwashing.

     The message was two-fold:  first, there was the thinly veiled accusation

that Mexico and Mexicans were the responsible agents (which fit well into the CNN and Lou Dobbs's vision of the Mexican threat); and, secondly, that Mexico had been and continued to be so irresponsible that the lives of Americans, well, of most of America actually, were threatened, and that we had much to fear.

     Because we watched a lot (too much) of CNN for that first week (April 21-28), it came as a surprise when, overnight, CNN decided this story of responsibility and fear was no longer selling too well, and suddenly pushed it off the headlines. They moved on to evaluating (read "judging") President Obama in his first 100 days -- another comical and exaggerated exercise in applying human agency and responsibility to one person (a person who was not the agent of what he was trying to fix, for that matter).

     In the end, we found out two things about the "swine flu" by living in Mexico:  first, Mexicans did not panic, partly out of a sense of fatalism (there are benefits to not believing that human agents stand behind all things good or bad), and partly out of common sense.  Mexico City alone has more than 20 million people (maybe 22-23 million); if we

triple the number of swine flu cases identified or suspected, from 2,000 to 6,000, we are still left with a very miniscule percentage of cases in Mexico City (you do the math). How much can you do about the spread of "swine flu" in a congested population like Mexico City's in any case? Secondly, Mexico City did respond quickly. They were transparent about the disease. They did get on it right away. Mexico took extraordinary measures to cut down on the spread of the disease (shutting down public events very early on; preaching public caution through hand cleaning, masks, etc.; sharing information readily with WHO and other countries). They punished their economy, especially small businesses in Mexico, probably much more than they should have.

     In short, Mexico shouldered the burden in this matter. They should be applauded for their responsibility. Americans, especially CNN, should be castigated for their fear-mongering and attempt to arouse hysteria. But beyond that, as Mexico shows itself to be an increasingly modern democracy with a sense of global responsibility, the United States continues to be ethnocentric and inward looking. While Americans prefer to wallow in fear (FDR should have said:  "All you have . . . is fear itself"), while they make a psychological hobby out of fearing those things that are beyond human control, Mexico has made the best of its sense that some bad things just happen, and no one is responsible, while at the same time, at an official government level, accommodating the world at large in every way possible to check the disease. Mexico seems to have succeeded in both ways, and they are the better country for it.

To Stay in Mexico

   Because of the death of our friend Carl, part of our stay in Mexico has left us feeling out of place and time. Our grieving has known no locality, and we both often snap back to "reality," puzzled over where we are, and sometimes even wondering what season it is. The little essay that below is not about that part of our "stay" ("holiday" is grossly wrong; "vacation" hardly right; "travel" would be right, if we moved more; "stay" seems more right given the total experience). What I will say here will not be news to many who are familiar with Mexico, or at least with those of you who have seen more than the gated-beach-resort Mexico. Still, many things below bear repeating, to myself if no one else.

1. The Assault on the Senses -

     Color confronts you everywhere in Mexico, from flowers in bloom to the bougainvillea on our garden wall in San Miguel that proves more hardy than the most common weed. 

Not content with nature, Mexicans produce their own riot of color -- in fabrics, in clothing, in buildings, in kid's plastic toys. 

 

Chiapas and Oaxaca

 

    And, while colors often appear to be primary, and therefore easy to imitate, the fact is that they are much more subtle than you first imagine, especially in fabrics and stuccoed walls. We have often stared at exterior and interior walls in Mexico (usually painted in a faux style), and said, we can do that. The fact is -- we cannot. Our friends, Kathleen and Jim Ellsworth of San Miguel de Allende, have painted house interiors for decades (and they can do this kind of painting) but they will readily testify to the nuances in this kind of house painting.

    

Oaxaca

     Ruins (ruinas), cobblestone streets (in old colonial towns like San Miguel) and dust are the second assault on sight and the senses. Ruins like the Mayan complex at Palenque (Chiapas)or the Zapotec ruins of Monte Alban (Oaxaca) are justly shown off with pride.

"Second rank" ruins, like the ex-convento at Cuiapan (construction begun in 1530 and shutdown in 1550 because Philip V thought them too expensive), barely get a glance.

In fact, the whole country often appears to be ruins covered in dust, as were all of the buildings surrounding the gold and silver mines of Minerales de Pozos below.

And, after all, what town, or even village, does not have a church dating to the 1500s (well, almost none, actually).

All of this is to say nothing of rickety, termite-eaten gates (in every city and town) -- behind which may lie a mansion worth millions of dollars or the humble residence of a poor Mexican family. Who is to know.

     Streets are barely navigable in most old towns. The sidewalks are narrow, and the holes, big enough and sometimes deep enough to swallow a whole person, wait uncovered and unmarked for the first "gringo" to make a mistake. Anyone with a propensity to twist their ankle should never come to Mexico. We often walk in the street, dodging whatever car or truck comes along. Those who drive confront "topes" (speed bumps) every little distance. A man who took us by van from San Cristobal de las casas to Palenque (a distance of 200km that took over five hours) shrugged and said to me:  "200 kilometers of road; 350 topes." He was apologizing, not exaggerating.

     Sounds in Mexico are something else. Road traffic, blaring horns, dogs barking and fighting, birds singing, church bells being rung at every imaginable hour (with no apparent reason; often in the middle of the night), fireworks (especially in San Miguel; hey, you have a birthday, "let's fire off major fireworks from 4am to, say, 10am."), people barking their wares. Total disregard for others in making sounds of every sort define the equivalent total lack of privacy in Mexico, just as that privacy is lacking in many traditional societies.

     Smell is another thing. For June, it is the smell of fresh corn tortillas, sold from little shops along the street. For me, it is a bakery two houses away down the street (again, you would have no idea it was a bakery because it is located behind a set of rotting wooden doors -- there are actually people who make rotting wooden doors here -- real nice ones -- I am not kidding you). Every other day of so, we get the sweet smell of bread (Mexicans are really keen on sweet; less on salt). But if you try to guess which day you might get bread (these folks seem to wholesale it for other tiendas - stores), you are likely to be disappointed.

     More likely smells are auto and truck exhaust emissions (forget fighting for clean air emissions; Mexico alone will defeat the world on that score). And, even more, the sweet smell of the sewer. It hits you anywhere, anytime. It may be a big drain on the street; it may be the drains in the house. Despite having the knowledge to know how to handle this in homes, Mexican plumbing continues to develop without using elbow traps, vent stacks, or good closed sewers. My father, a plumber, would be appalled.

     Touch should not be left out. Every surface in Mexico has a texture, even a smooth wall. Stucco, brick, cobblestones, steel fixtures, wooden chairs, thin plate glass, iron-work gates and windows are all ubiquitous, all immediate.

II. Mexico the Mysterious --

     You really don't know what you are going to encounter in Mexico. Last night we went to a restaurant we had eaten at two years ago. The same guitar player was playing. He is just about as good as any jazz guitarist (and classical for that matter) that you are ever going to hear.  He, however, is always going to be eking out a living a "Mama Mias." Kathleen took us on a trip and stopped at a small humble house where the owner builds musical instruments, including the most fantastic drums I have ever seen or heard (people from far away commission him to build them). He also builds beautiful sounding flutes and recorders. But his life is still humble.

On that same trip, while looking at a ruina way out on a nearly impassable dirt road in the middle of a desert, I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. I guessed it was a pick-up. It wasn't; it was a fully loaded Coca-Cola truck, lurching and swaying its way across the seemingly empty desert. It had probably been to some very small miscelania or tienda near some houses where the four kids in the neighbourhood needed their daily intact of Coke (bad teeth and diabetes are major afflictions in Mexico now).

   Excursions to towns on their market days always surprise you -- whether it is an old woman carrying an enormous live turkey upside down around the stalls, bargaining hard to sell it, or this goat, being kept cool and safe in a novel way before being sold.

Some mysteries are anticipated, yet they still surprise you. These women are part of the Easter Sunday procession (about two hours and a mile long, including an orchestra and a couple of choirs); maybe it is just seeing middle-aged women carrying heavy platforms with icons for such a long time.

Other things are puzzles of a sort, and gringoes seem to be drawn into these just as much as anyone. Many walls of elegant houses expose the bricks beneath the stucco, as if to suggest that the stucco had fallen off, and the house was a shambles outside. This one, near our home, was weirder yet. The message over the door read, "Cantina of the Dogs," and an accompanying plaque read: "No women. No uniformed people. No minors allowed." And, it pictured dogs fighting -- as if it were Michael Vick's house.  All a bad joke; the house is an ordinary (though rich) residence.

     Not all mysteries are to be seen or smelled or heard. Our "lavanderia" posts hours 8 to 8, Mon. through Fri. But many days they are not open until 10, and then sometimes you see one of the family working there at 10pm at night. It is all a suggestion (much like traffic signs). This is 

not to bad mouth Mexicans. They are hard workers; anyone working a mere 60 hour week is an executive or a slackard. They are polite, often very friendly, and they love their children without reservation.

     In fact, the economy of  the vast majority of semi-poor or poor Mexicans is interesting. Everyone seems to be selling something. Hawkers can be very much in your face. No space is free from someone selling something. Restaurants are assaulted outdoors and often indoors by old women selling trinkets or flower sellers and even sometimes by someone selling food! One day I said to June, "I wonder which of these sellers is allowed to move up and down the corridors of the Mexican Congress." She immediately replied, "Why, all of them, of course."  And, so it seems. Yet, for all of this "selling," most people have no change. "Cambio" is hard to come by in Mexico, and everyone we talk to (meaning native Mexicans) says it is just laziness on the part of sellers:  if you want it, the buyer must have or get the right change. In fact, June and I think we should start a "cambio" business in Mexico; we would make a fortune.

     Well, we probably would not. Hordes of people all selling the same goods, or nearly the same goods, feel some social compunction to try to make a sale just because the culture demands the social gesture. But in the real economy underneath this false entrepreneurship, they all know that the number of buyers is limited. And, if any seller does something special in their peddling, that peddler knows that within days everyone will be doing the same thing. They have learned the hard-knocks side of capitalism. Where there is a void, a need, a want, someone will fill it. But in Mexico, thousands will fill it, and no one will move up. That is the economy here; no one will move up, except the small percentage of elites and the small number of lucky souls who get advanced educations. The social-class order fixes everything, and entrepreneurship is a joke. So, why have "cambio" ready.

     In many ways your heart breaks in Mexico, but in other ways, on reflection, one wonders about our so-called "values" -- including modernization, capitalism, education, and so on.