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Bread and Circuses

On September 16, Mexico celebrates the idea of its independence from Spain. On this day in 1810, Miguel Hidalgo, a revolutionary priest (a traitor and a menace to the order of the State, if you were the "legal" government under the Spanish flag), along with some other troublemakers of his acquaintance, set the date for an uprising: December 8. They were, of course, betrayed. It was to take another eleven years before Mexico City fell to a rebel army in 1821, and the main plotters were long since dead, imprisoned, or exiled, Since then, in the view of many, the Mexican people have exchanged one oppressor for another; one bloodsucking tyrant for another.

In a "man in the street" article in The News in English, folks were asked what this day meant to them. Their answers had one thing in common: nobody thought the revolution had ended. Mexicans, in startling contrast to U.S. citizens, do not believe their revolution has provided them with the benefits of democracy.

Mexicans believe in their Constitution, and in the democracy it promises, just as we do. They even believe that the political structure for democracy exists, and that the law and the courts have the power to enforce democracy. The problem, they will tell you, is the corruption: the unwillingness of their political leaders to stop lining their pockets at the expense of the people. The revolution, they will tell you, is not dead; merely subverted by a few rich and powerful families and the functionaries that do their bidding. They do not consider it a failed revolution; merely a postponed one.

Last night, in the Zocalo (town square), throngs of Oaxacans gathered for "el grito" (the shout). In every state capitol, as in the Federal District, the head of government led the people in a shout of "Viva Mexico". Afterwards, there were fireworks: tens of thousands of dollars' worth of fireworks. Mariachi bands played the "old songs", great quantities of alcohol were consumed, and thousands of Mexicans got down and got maudlin about La Patria (the national inheritance). Today, there are hangovers, cleanup crews, and the Independence Day Parade.

Nothing seems to move a Mexican like the rhythm of a marching drum. For an hour and a half, drumming, fifing, flag waving legions of marching Oaxacan school children and young adults shuffled their way past my apartment house door. Then, for another half hour, they were followed by the defense forces of the State. Phalanxes of State Police, City Police, Federal Police, Auxiliary Police, Naval Police and Army Police; battalions of soldiers, sailors; row upon polished row of gleaming new jeeps, armored personnel carriers, cannon, rocket launchers, tanks, and all terrain vehicles. Finally, there were firemen, and the National Red Cross. The crowd lining the street applauded throughout.

Watching all this, I was struck by the irony of what I was seeing. In a country where the military, along with all other uniformed branches, is actively employed in brutally repressing popular protest, the populace cheers them. In a city where homeless people and beggars are rapidly increasing due to the financial crisis, armored personnel carriers costing hundreds of thousands of pesos are a source of pride. Surrounded by two tiny countries incapable of invasion and one megapower which no-one in the world can repel, Mexico maintains a "defense force" at great expense. What is one to make of these contradictions?

Days like today offer the people an opportunity to come together in celebration, not in protest: a relaxation in the tense social posture. They manifest pride in the "modernity" of their army: it proves their country is not "backward". Even so, they cheer not the institution, as much as the individuals that constitute it: look at Juan, doesn't he look handsome in his uniform? Finally, they appreciate a good show, whether it is folk dancers in the Zocalo or jackboots in the street. In this, they are not much different than we are.

There will be other "independence days", throughout the year: celebrations of uprisings against the French, the Americans, and (in 1910) the old landowners. There will be more fireworks, more parades, and more declarations of national pride. In between, there will be the Zapatistas in Chiapas; the investigations into (and coverups of) corrupt acts by and murders of leaders of all political parties, of higher ups in the Catholic church, and current and past government officials; crushing inflation and rising unemployment; and all the rest of the daily realities faced by Mexicans. Less bread, more circuses: the beat goes on.

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