False Dilemmas

July 20, 2025

Luis Rubio

Public debate in Mexico has veered into a dead end. For some, the transition to democracy ended with the recent flurry of constitutional amendments passed hastily and without serious analysis of their implications. For others—especially the President—it’s all just noise, a storm in a teacup. Unfortunately, both sides are partly right, largely because they do not see the same things nor share similar terms or historical frameworks. As Karl Popper, that radical defender of individual liberty, argued: “The alleged clash between freedoms and security…turns out to be a chimera. For there is no freedom if it is not secured by the state; and conversely, only a state which is controlled by the free citizens can offer them any reasonable security.”

The true dilemma lies in the phrase of the Roman poet Juvenal: “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”—Who watches the watchmen? For citizens, the answer is unclear in today’s Mexico, which is why the discussion centers around vanishing checks and balances and the weakness of institutions. In contrast, for the government, the answer is obvious and simple: they—the eternally persecuted—are the guarantors of citizens’ rights.

The fact that experience does not match the self-perception of Morena’s members turns out to be a mere historical accident. This narrative has become an absolute dogma, blindly believed by everyone in Morena—from the President down to the most modest party member. When AMLO published data that only the tax authority (SAT) could access, he did so because it served the national interest. When something similar was done by a PAN or PRI president, it was sacrilege—a violation of a sacrosanct principle.

As many commentators have pointed out, one need only recall the speeches, tweets, or videos of many of Morena’s most prominent figures to see the blatant contradiction between their perspective as opposition and their vision from power. Back then they were severe, intolerant, and principled; now they are relentless and incorruptible authority.

The problem lies in the fact that this is not a conversation or a dialogue, but two monologues. For those now in power, the transition didn’t end in the past few weeks or months, but in 2005 with the attempt to impeach their candidate and the subsequent “theft” of the election. The formula adopted in the 1996 reform (which the PRD supported only in its constitutional component) implied, in practice, a dilution of presidential power in exchange for formal checks and balances. The fundamental rule (even if implicit) was that no one dominated, but everyone had an equal right to participate. That principle was violated with the attempt to impeach AMLO. The conceptual and political rift that defines today’s politics and narrative arose from that moment.

For those of us who fear abuse by unchecked authorities, the problem is not one of narrative but one of history—a history of abuses that Morena’s members once denounced fiercely when they were in opposition but now deem nonexistent, in fact, inconceivable.

In all serious countries, there are institutional safeguards for amending the constitution. In some (such as Denmark—a model Morena often invokes), a constitutional amendment requires an election between a first and second parliamentary vote. In the Mexico of the past, the so-called “metaconstitutional powers” gave the president enormous power, but PRI members were careful with appearances. In today’s Mexico, the constitution is amended after breakfast and ratified by enough states before lunch. By that logic, the relevant question should be: why even have a constitution if it can be changed without the slightest obstacle? Ergo, it becomes clear why the President wants an electoral reform that would eliminate even the inconvenience of waiting three hours to ratify any change to the fundamental law. We’ve moved from metaconstitutional powers to supreme flagrancy.

Given the clash of concepts, values, and narratives that characterize today’s national politics, perhaps the key question is whether it is possible to reach a consensus on the kind of future all Mexicans could envision—because current perspectives not only don’t align, but they are also radically divergent and even opposed. With so much power at her disposal, perhaps there is a narrow window of opportunity for President Sheinbaum to try to bring all Mexicans together.

In 1936, Churchill defined civilization in the way it ought to be understood: “Civilization means that officials and authorities, whether uniformed or not, whether armed or not, are made to realize that they are servants and not masters.”

Morena is in the process of stripping citizens of even the right to mock politicians—an elemental freedom in any civilized society. And they dare call that democracy. It should be from them that a real alternative comes—one capable of bridging today’s divides.