Luis Rubio

In the eighties, the title of a book on Indonesia summed up the moment in that society, not very distinct from that of today’s Mexico: “A Nation in Waiting”. In waiting for “a change”.

Governments come and governments go, all avowing deliverance. But deliverance did not come and everything turned out being excuses: the fault was always someone else’s.

When things turn out well, Mexican society leans over backward towards the government; when things come out poorly, the reaction is one of spite, of betrayal. That is why Mexican society’s reaction has been so brutal, making life easy for the promoters of chagrin as a politico-electoral strategy. And the government could not have acted worse: it entrenched itself, convinced of its virtue, thus incapable of reaching out, ended up an easy prey of its own prejudices, and of an opposition that it does not understand, nor tries to. This has led society towards absolute uncertainty with respect to the future.

During the last lustra, Mexicans have lived through two similar and, at the same time, totally distinct moments, a contrast that illustrates some of the causes of the disgust, desperation and anger ad hominem that currently characterize the country. Vicente Fox and Enrique Peña-Nieto have nothing in common in their biographies, proposals or abilities, but both share one thing: the two promised a transformation, which they forgot nearly immediately on taking office. Fox swore to “get the PRI out of los Pinos” in order to change the country; Peña-Nieto pledged an “effective government”. Both betrayed the population. Their failings explain the growing popularity of the miracle peddlers: “Bronco”, AMLO, and all those that are certain to show up later.

Joaquín Villalobos, an expert on social movements, says that there is no worse government strategy than that deriving from a simple reading of a complex reality. Fox did not understand the dimensions of his victory nor much less the nature or the depth of the demand for change in Mexican society; also he did not recognize the weakness of the PRI at that juncture in time. The problem for him were the persons and not the structures and institutions, the reason he wound up doing the dead man’s float for six long years, creating antibodies for the politico-economic transition that the country continues to await.

Peña-Nieto did not understand that the Mexico of today has nothing to do with that of the fifties of the last century, that the globalized economy forever altered the domestic politics, and that resorting to a high fiscal deficit is tremendously dangerous politically. The present government not only incorrectly read the circumstances that it came into power but also the crucial moments that changed under its own watch, especially Ayotzinapa. Its decision to attempt to recentralize power bespoke enormous naiveté, as if decentralization of the previous decades had been the product of the will of a president and not the result of a complicated and shifting political reality. But by centralizing an array of instruments and imposing controls on the media, governors and other social actors, in addition to tax increases to captive taxpayers, and the disdain with which it managed (and continues to mishandle) cases of corruption, the government ended in the worst of worlds: responsibility for all issues and events about which it did not have (nor could it have) control fell in the lap of the president. Worse, all Mexicans are aggrieved.

The case of Ayotzinapa is emblematic. In objective terms, it is evident that the matter was a local one and that the federal government did not become aware of it until much after it occurred. In contrast with other crises, in that one there was no participation of federal forces. Under those conditions, it is unbelievable that the federal government ended up taking the blame, but that was the product of its own way of acting, of its folly in protecting the governor and, above all, of its turning a blind eye to the complexity of the context. Even now, the government does not to appear to understand the amount of grievances that it engendered in all of society and that Ayotzinapa permitted bringing out into the open and making them explicit anonymously.

When Nikita Khrushchev, Stalin’s successor, denounced the crimes of the Soviet regime, one of the delegates called out, “Comrade Khrushchev, where were you when Stalin was doing all these terrible things?” Khrushchev shouted, “Who is that? Stand up!” No one rose. Khrushchev said, “That comrade, in the shadows, is where I was”.

President’s Peña’s government did not understand the society that it attempted to govern nor much less understood that its initiatives and policies were disrupting values, traditions, interests and, most of all, realities and rights won the hard way. At the moment that Iguala took place, the society manifested itself with brute force.

While uncertainty has become the dominant factor in citizens’ minds, the government remains trapped in its own simple reading of a complex reality, believing it controls the presidential succession process. The contradiction is flagrant: society demands definitions about the future while the government delivers nothing more than scorn. Mexicans clearly understand the complexity of the moment, and nobody seems disposed to violent action. However, no country can function in absence of certainty and clarity of the future and, at the very least, a sense of hope.

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

The anger is tangible and fully justified: the risks for Mexico of a Trump presidency are evident; the scathing offenses that the U.S. presidential candidate has lavished upon Mexico and Mexicans are plainly inadmissible. All of this is clear and indisputable. The question is whether Mexico has the possibility of “stopping” Trump and derailing his candidacy, all this without risk or pernicious consequences. The latter is key: our geographic coordinates has provided us with enormous economic opportunity, but not substantial political power. I do not think anyone is willing to affirm Mexico as the regional powerhouse. Things being thus, without lessening the dishonored national dignity, the Mexican response to Trump cannot be visceral: Mexico has to act to improve its options, not its risks.

If we exchange the word “enemy” for “neighbor” in the following words, no one could say it better than Sun Tzu: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a thousand battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle”.

The strategy of a small actor facing a great one must consider the circumstances, and potential consequences, of its actions. For several months, the Mexican government has been acting –and boasting- in migratory matters, promoting the naturalization of Mexicans who qualify for it, particularly in the so-called swing states, where no party commands a systematic majority: the presumption being that the vote of the new citizens could make the difference on Election Day. The numerical logic is apparent, but not its political rationality: if unsuccessful, not only would Mexico must contend with the new, disliked, president, but also, at least potentially, with his ire.

It is obvious that Mexico has to “do something”, but that “something” cannot entail a devastating risk. Many Mexican presidents have gone to the U.S. Congress to “read them the riot act;” some have transcended the bilateral issues (such as migration and weapons) to venture into exceedingly rugged terrain, such as the Middle East and Vietnam. None achieved U.S. benevolence: expecting to would have been absurd. Observed from our side, any U.S. meddling in the internal political affairs of Mexico has always been rejected and denounced as unjustified intervention. U.S. nationalism begins where the differences among their political parties end.

Additionally, in the specific case of Trump, there is evidence that, throughout his campaign for the Republican Party nomination, his numbers improved whenever some Mexican personage, as Vicente Fox exemplified, would appear in the media criticizing him. Trump’s hard-core political base fervently believes in his message and any help on our part would do nothing but strengthen that base: the last thing Mexico should do is to upset (even more) the henhouse.

Mexican governments from the end of the eighties have maintained an excellent relationship with the U.S. Intergovernmental interaction is fluid, problems and claims are seen to (though not always solved) and, every time there is a crisis, the number one priority is avoiding its escalating. On at least two occasions, half of Obama’s cabinet came personally to Mexico City to prevent a burst of tensions. Mexico’s problem is not the relationship with the U.S. government but with the U.S. society. There lies the deficit which is acute and the cause of the strength and resonance of Trump’s rhetoric.

The great benefit of NAFTA was to open a world of opportunities for investment in Mexico and the export of manufactured products for our neighbors to the North; the great cost was having become a subject of U.S. internal politics. Up to the nineties, Mexico was seen as a pivotal country for the U.S. for geographic reasons, but it did not constitute a factor for internal political discussion beyond that of the agencies dedicated to drugs and the like. The debate that led to the ratification of NAFTA changed that reality and it generated a stigma for Mexico and everything Mexican through many U.S. regions and communities that have come out losing in the process of technological change, the disappearance of traditional jobs and the moving of manufacturing plants to Mexico and other countries. The political fact is that Mexico ended up being blamed of innumerable evils for which it was not responsible, but in politics that does not matter.

What does matter is that Mexio did nothing to attack the problem. After the ratification of NAFTA we forgot the U.S. society that had so successfully been courted for the ratification of the agreement. Now we are paying the bill. The question is what can be done now.

In the long term, what has to be done is axiomatic: win over U.S. society with our exceptional assets, such as culture, history, people, service, vitality, humor, etc. Nothing is lacking for achieving this, except for a long-term commitment. In the short term, from here to Election Day, there is little that can be done other than to establish bridges with both campaign teams, explain the Mexican perspective and procure minimizing future damage. And hoping that the worse scenario does not materialize.

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

“Transitions are long, uncertain and complex, affirms Joaquín Villalobos. Worse yet, writes Australian novelist Nikki Rowe, “Transition isn’t pretty, but stagnation is hideous”. Mexico’s penal reform process is found in that limbo: significant advances in some aspects but without consolidating the port of arrival.

The country undertook an extraordinarily ambitious transformation in matters of criminal justice but did not devote itself to creating the conditions for it to fructify. As in so many other things, we crossed the river without a map to guide our arrival on the opposite shore. However, according to legislation approved years ago, at least in the interpretation by the Supreme Court, the principles of the new system would enter into operation immediately, impacting the imperfect legacies of the past. With this, the risks of an unfinished transition could become incommensurable.

The main concern with regard to implementation of the reform is reduced to the application of due process. Since Florence Cassez (a French woman accused of kidnapping) was released under the principle that her rights had been violated when the judiciary failed to follow the procedures established by the law, a great number of abductors, pederasts, and murderers have been freed. The ruling of the Supreme Court in this matter established the principle of due process of law and this has been used by innumerable attorneys to obtain their clients’ freedom, despite the fact that the majority of these had recognized their culpability. The new system will drastically accelerate this process of liberation.

Dispute in this regard was not long in coming about. The victims (and their families) of abduction, homicide, extortion and all types of crimes argue that it is not possible to apply a principle retroactively and that, in any case, the new system should be applied to future transgressions and not to those of the past. One of the most articulate plaintiffs, and the mother of a young man who was kidnapped and murdered, Isabel Miranda de Wallace, wrote that “Due process must be integral, that is, all parties must be similarly armed… Diverse voices are raised in favor of the rights of the accused, but I ask you, who looks after the victims? Who defends the human rights of those who were first violated by the criminals when these victims were tortured or mutilated?”

What Mrs. Wallace proposes is morally indisputable and casts light upon what the country is faced with in this matter. The question is how to carry out the transition that the country requires from the ashes of the old corrupt and authoritarian political system, but nonetheless the one that continues being the norm, to the construction of a new platform of civilization, democracy and justice for all. Given the corruption, dysfunctionality and, therefore, impunity that characterizes the justice procurement system, the virulence of those who have endured agony from crime is perfectly explainable and understandable. As is the logic that the citizens –from the most modest to the most prominent- would prefer to see a presumed criminal in jail –or to lynch him- than to trust in the promises inherent in due process. As the saying goes, the mule was not born stubborn; circumstances made it that way…

The point of departure in criminal affairs are the underworlds of corruption where those who govern justice are not the judges but rather the prosecutors -and their investigators and police-, who are lacking in the professionalism, forensic and other laboratories, capacities and incentives to conduct professional and legally irrefutable investigations. The emphasis of the system is not found on the procurement of justice but instead on the processing of those whom the prosecutors determine to be guilty; the process is so vice-ridden that it inevitably entails violations of the rights and procedures that comprise the essence of due process. A lawyer whom I consulted could not have been more eloquent: “Due process is a gift on a golden platter for defense lawyers because there is no way for present-day justice systems to do good work; it is always possible to find flaws in the process”.

It is clear that only a faultless transformation of the justice system would make it possible, on touching shore at the opposite side of the river, for Mexicans to have open and transparent processes, professional prosecutors and judges in charge of the process. As in a civilized nation.  The problem is how to get there.

The furor being generated by the release of individuals accused of homicide and abduction obliges the politicians to respond. The transition inherent to the reform should have started in 2008 but, Mexican style, it never did.  The question now is what to do now: put the reform on ice, thus preserving the present (in)justice system, as many propose, or create a mechanism sanctioned by the Supreme Court that separates the old system from the new, with which novel incentives would be created for the prompt implementation of the new system. That is to say, not superimposing the new on the old, but creating a parallel transition process.

What is responsible is not to step back for even an instant from the basic issue-at-hand: getting to the other side of the river, to the sanctuary of professional and unpolluted justice.

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

Dogmas and factiousness forge the educative strategy. Some policy makers advance a reform that cannot in reality be applied, others undermine it to upset a rival in the presidential-succession race; some demand absolute compliance with what, simply, cannot be complied with and the rest just take advantage of the troubled waters to impose their law and construct their own candidacy. This brings to mind the old witticism on the difference between the paranoid and the schizophrenic: one builds castles in the air and the other lives in them, but it is the Psychiatrist that charges rent in both cases. The point is simple: only the Psychiatrist comes out unscathed; all the rest work for him.

In this entire tragic farce the least important thing is the only thing that matters: the possibility that every Mexican child can build a successful future. That is, break with a key structural impediment to the development of each citizen and to economic growth: an educative system erected for the attainment of ideological hegemony in support of the political system. Ceding educative control to the unions and their dissidents was not by chance:  the objective did not comprise an education for success in life (and to equalize opportunities for children born under such unequal conditions), but rather political control.

In this light, the mobilizations of the National Coordination of Educational Workers (CNTE) in the last weeks and months are perfectly explainable and follow an impeccable political logic of which the great strategist Sun Tzu would have approved: hit your enemy where he least expects it and where it hurts him most. The CNTE emerged as dissention within the National Union of Educational Workers (SNTE) and, over time, it became a corporate entity with similar objectives but through different means. In practice, the two organizations complemented each other: the SNTE blackmailed the government with the threat of the CNTE. Both organizations won through setting themselves against the government.

Detention of the Teachers’ Union Head Elba Esther Gordillo could not have come at a more sensitive moment. Although the government took action because it feared her opposition to the educative reform, the cost was extraordinary: on beheading its leadership, the SNTE ended up disjointed and the CNTE morphed into the inevitable counterpart in the negotiation.

The CNTE became powerful in the state of Oaxaca where, in control of the State Education Ministry, it extorted the government with an interminable source of money and power. The great merit of the current federal government was to wrest that power base from the CNTE. However, that did not resolve the core matter: the CNTE’s credibility among the teachers who support it.

And that is the issue in a nutshell: despite that many teachers participate in blockages and marches because they are obliged to do so, the majority do so out of conviction. The question is why. Years of observing the phenomenon have convinced me that there is a very one straightforward factor that spells it out: the teachers are petrified of being replaced by the reform, that is, they are afraid of failing the evaluations and being left without a job.

Behind all this lies the educative’ system’s perverse rationality: historically, a person who aspires to be a teacher must initially amass a (relatively) enormous sum of money to purchase a teaching post, which in turn becomes a virtual savings account, with its capitalization at the end of the individual’s teaching career on its later sale. On buying this position, the teacher ensures an income for the next thirty years and guaranteed retirement on selling it. The CNTE as well as the SNTE have devoted themselves to making sure that the equation is maintained per saecula saeculorum because it is an infallible source of control of the base.

The educative reform, basically labor-related in nature, seeks to redefine the relationship between the union and the Mexican Ministry of Education (SEP) as the basis for an eventual, thoroughgoing educational reform. From this perspective, it is purely the stick and no carrot. That is, it constitutes a huge threat to the status quo in that it does not offer a way out and, in contrast, issues a warning to those living in and from the traditional system. Individuals who bought their posts years ago view their retirement as endangered, and those in the system (probably most) who know they are below par as teachers, live in fear of losing their position due to the evaluations. The reform does not see to any of these elements. If the teacher does poorly in the exam he is out of the system; if she does well, her income does not compensate for the savings inherent in the position that was purchased years ago.

In the face of this, the government has gone from one incident of bungling to another. Some within the administration have taken a hard line, others just want to oust them. Behind all of this is the other dialectic of the political reality: the presidential succession. Within this context, the “negotiation” process (government-CNTE) does not address the crux of the problem: above all the crucial difference between the rationale of power and money that lies behind the CNTE’s leadership (the old corporatist logic) and the union members’ trepidations. Rather than splitting the two, the government’s actions only strengthen the alliance -and the fears. The negotiation –and the many agendas in conflict behind it- feed the protest.

The risk in all this is that the protest ends up being generalized against everything: education, “the” reforms, the economy, etc. The dogmatism of all of those involved –The Ministry of Education (SEP), the Department of the Interior (Gobernación), Mexicanos Primero, CNTE and SNTE- nourishes the candidacy of the only one that has led with exceptional skill: first backing the mobilizations, then affirming the reform’s permanence.

And the children?

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

Whoever has walked down the streets of a European city knows that sidewalk cafés are the social and community lifeblood. The cafés extend out to and onto the sidewalks, where customers coexist peaceably with passersby, without the least conflict arising between them. The cafés occupy the sidewalks but do not invade them, a perceptible reflection of a society in which there are clear rules that are respected by private actors as well as by the authorities responsible for making the rules be complied with.

While in Mexico there is a proliferation of cafés and restaurants with tables on the sidewalk, the result has been very different. The comparison, and contrast, is revealing.

In societies like Mexico’s, in which little importance is afforded to the rules -any rules-, quotidian coexistence requires alternate mechanisms that facilitate it. In the case of vehicular traffic, for example, the existence of traffic humps and innumerable stop lights is suggestive: due to lack of the knowledge and application of the (frequently changing) rules of the motor vehicle code, the authority resorts to physical barriers to force drivers to behave. In Europe, as in societies in which knowledge of the rules is a condition sine qua non for operating a vehicle, there are many fewer traffic signals and practically no street humps: the authority resorts to traffic circles as mechanisms of interaction among drivers headed simultaneously in distinct directions. Behind having recourse to traffic circles, there is a whole philosophy that also reveals the nature of the authority: it is expected that drivers will know the rules and adhere to them. In traffic circles there is a procedure for entering, circulating and exiting: only those who know the traffic rules can function within that schema -and successfully get through a traffic circle.

The cafés and restaurants of Mexico City’s Condesa neighborhood as in Presidente Masaryk Avenue live in ever-changing rules, always dependent on the whims of the municipal authority, which also changes frequently. That is, there is no permanent code that establishes what can be done and what is prohibited (and compliance with which is equally strict for the individual or businessperson as for the authority). With the dearth of that clear and transparent set of rules and regulations, everything is subject to negotiation that, in such a milieu, implies paying a bribe. When a businessperson arrives at an agreement (that is, meets the inspector’s price), the permit is valid only for the time that the public official maintains his post; thus, the restaurant invades the entire sidewalk in order to exploit every last centimeter of available space (which was paid for under the table, as it were), regardless of its effect on pedestrians. The conduct of the authority as well as that of the restauranteur is absolutely logical and rational: both are exploiting the opportunity created by the “agreement” and both know that it lasts for a limited time only. The arbitrary powers that the rules confer on the municipal authority permit this type of arrangement at whatever cost, starting with the passersby.

This is but one example of the impediments to the growth of investment, therefore of the economy, which transcend the reforms that with such great eagerness the government promoted during its first half in office. These are factors that inhibit investment because these render it costly and, above all, risky. A restauranteur who is unsure of the space that he is going to be able to utilize will think twice before going ahead with his investment. The same is true of a mega enterprise that considers investing in the energy sector or in a plant that manufactures goods for exports. It is not by chance that those who invest the most are those that, thanks to NAFTA, enjoy legal and patrimonial certainty, something from which virtually all Mexicans are excluded.

The late Mancur Olson, an American professor, clarified this phenomenon: he found that when a company or consortium entertains a clearly defined special interest it can obtain very broad benefits compared with those that could be achieved by millions of consumers lacking common objectives. In this manner, a nucleus of companies or labor unions can achieve customs or regulatory protection that negatively affects the consumer in general because it possesses the capacity to exert direct and effective pressure. Hence, they can come to an agreement with the authority of the Secretary of the Economy that, on benefiting those enterprises, jeopardizes not only the population in general, but also makes investment generally risky. Who would want to invest in an environment in which the rules are established in willful (that is, corrupt) fashion by the authority? This instance is extensive to sectors such as communications, agriculture, cattle raising, and others. When we ask ourselves why the Mexican economy does not grow, the answer should be obvious.

Mexico’s governmental system was constructed under the principle that the authority should be endowed with great latitude in deciding where and how the country would develop. Perhaps that made sense and worked one hundred years ago, after the revolutionary devastation and within the context of a closed and protected economy. Those very powers persist today but the reality is the opposite: in open and competitive surroundings, what previously was (conceivably) virtuous, today condemns us to poverty and disillusionment. Nothing will change while arbitrariness and the absence of checks and balances remain the norm.

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@lrubiof

 Luis Rubio

In memory of Professor Stephen Zamora

Defying the reality is a sport engaged in by all politicians of the universe. However, sooner or later comes the day to pay the piper. Dilma Rousseff was removed because of alleged “crimes of responsibility” in fiscal matters, but her true crime was sustaining a cadence of spending that became unsustainable. The launching of a process of impeachment is exceedingly serious and worrisome, and all the more so when it entails a strong dose of vindictiveness and petty political disputes, but all of that does not preclude her country’s finding itself in a critical economic situation, the product of an economic strategy that she and her predecessor adopted and prolonged beyond the viable.

President Lula and President Dilma were benefited, first, from the reforms processed by the Cardoso government in the nineties but, above all, by the growth in the price of commodities that, for a decade, they exported to China. When the commodities bubble burst, the entire strategy of ever growing spending and interminable redistribution without consideration for the growth of productivity became unviable.

The strategy seemed sensible: effecting transfers with the Bolsa Familia program (designed after the Mexican Solidaridad-Progresa Program), with the objective of generating greater consumption by the most destitute population as a means of emerging from poverty. The result was immediate: millions of the poorest Brazilians began to enjoy formerly unthinkable consumption power. Nonetheless, the other side of the coin was absolute madness: there was no similar growth in productivity and, more important yet, the distribution program was not modified when the economy capsized, the product of the fall of exports.

In the end, the spectacular growth that the Brazilian economy had achieved for several years did not lead to the creation of internal engines of growth that would maintain it when the commodities boom evaporated. That is, they did the same thing that Mexicans have done with oil. The essential difference is that the Brazilians collect more taxes that Mexico but are not wealthier: they spend like prosperous Scandinavians but have a third-world infrastructure.

The “temporary” removal of the Brazilian President is an internal political affair of that country, about which I do not know enough, thus I dare not opine. But the evident lesson of the changes that occurred during the Rousseff presidency is that public expenditure is not a sustainable pathway toward development. An economy grows when there are conditions for making investment and an environment in which productivity grows in a systematic way. The Mexican crises of the eighties, the Asian crisis of 1997, the Russian crisis of 1998 and now the Brazilian crisis –not to mention the recurrent crises of Argentina and the approaching one in Venezuela- have a common denominator: all came about from attempts to defy the most basic economic logic.

The spectacular growth rates that the Brazilian economy underwent in recent years led many -in Mexico and outside it- to find fault with the Mexican government for its austerity (more in years past than at present). The Brazilians, the critics affirmed, had been able to diminish poverty in a none too despicable part of the population and its economy grew at rates that Mexicans have not seen since the sixties. It is now evident that that growth was due to exceptional circumstances –the Chinese demand for goods, mainly those for mining and agriculture and cattle-raising, in which Brazil had specialized- that are not repeatable.

During these years Brazil experienced what Mexico had in the seventies: they defied the reality and it came back to charge them every penny. Brazil has no option other than to begin to reform its economy. It would be wonderful if they learned from Mexico that reforms have to be real in order for growth to be high and sustained and not mediocre like ours.

Attacking corruption

Only naiveté can lead to thinking that a statement of patrimony and the publication of a tax return can lead to eradicating corruption and not to simulation. Given the core historical function that corruption has played in Mexico’s political system, the only way of ending corruption is by changing the structure of incentives and factors that make it possible.

In the first place, it would have to commence by modifying the powers that the bureaucracy relies on that, de facto, allow it to make decisions on purchases, contracts and multimillion allocations virtually without checks and balances. That would require changes in the laws, as well in the granting of full faculties, with teeth, to the Chief Audit Office of the Federation (within the congress), in order for there to exist an organ in the legislative branch that could effectively prosecute corruption.

In second place, a law would have to be approved that protects a person who denounces irregularities and cases of corruption, a whistle blower program. And even, as in some countries, it could confer a reward on those who accuse someone of something when those cases do indeed lead to sentencing.

Finally, it would have to draw a line in the sand with respect to the past, an end-point law, by which, through a determined payment, each person -public or private- who participated in an act of corruption is protected from any persecution regarding what has gone on before. This could seem unjust but one must start somewhere.  And one must never lose sight of that only by envisioning the future will it be possible to change the present reality.

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@lrubiof

 Luis Rubio

The great lesson of the British vote is that no one has control of political processes.  In a world where information is horizontal and everyone has access to it -as receivers and as informers- no one can limit what is known (be it true or false), what is discussed or what is concluded. Information is ubiquitous and anyone can lead a debate: everything depends on one’s skill. David Cameron initiated the process on convoking a referendum and instantly lost control: once the cat was out of the bag, the debate remained in the hands of the most skillful and the vote in those of the electors. The English government was not the ablest and the voters had other plans and concerns.

More than supporting an inexorable, absolute and automatic connection between what occurred in the U.K. and what could happen with Trump in the U.S or with López Obrador in Mexico, what is evident from my perspective is that the world has changed and no one has control any longer: the winner will be that who understands the electorate better and responds to it on its  terms. That is the genius of Nigel Farage (the principal promoter of the break with the E.U.) and of Trump in the U.S. They understood something that the others ignored. With all of their differences, the electorate in Mexico rebelled against the status quo last June 5 and practically none of the parties has understood what in reality took place.

“Public sentiment is not rational, it’s emotional,” says Ariel Moutsatsos. And he goes on: “Can one easily think one’s way out of sentiments of defeat, impotence, anxiety or fear?… Their arguments [those of Trump and the promoters of Brexit] make no sense and there is a battery of logical reasons, facts and tangible examples that clearly contradict them?… Well again, it’s not rational, it’s emotional”.

The referendum’s advocates supposed that it would be obvious, the rational thing to do, to remain in the EU, thus they left the terrain to the opposition that understood the opportunity perfectly because they read the electorate well. The establishment did not understand its isolation and insularity: as George Friedman notes, “The lack of imagination, the fact that the elite did not have the least idea of what was happening beyond their circles of acquaintances” reveals the true problem that divides our societies. And, as Edward Luce wrote, “Voters are not in the mood to embrace the status quo.”

In all countries there are people who are angry with the status quo, resentful about the clash of expectations with the daily reality, the unemployment or the underemployment and the perception of being left behind without the least possibility of getting ahead. Up until now, those persons had no way of expressing themselves; today, a few quacks who do indeed understand them changed everything: individuals who are capable of articulating those emotions and feelings and converting them into a political force. From frustrated citizens they went on to change themselves into the center of attention, the protagonists. Their force, as the vote contrary to the EU proved and how Trump’s followers have demonstrated to date, lies in the voice that these personages gave them until they became winners. Thus began the unanticipated consequences of absolutely rational decisions.

The grievances are perfectly understandable in rational terms; their manipulation required a capacity of mobilization of emotions and sentiments. That is where the triumph of these new populists resides: the reasons are relevant no more.

Is there something that we Mexicans could learn from that?   Two things seem clear to me: first, if there are aggrieved individuals in England, Spain and the US., in Mexico there are many more and with better reasons. Whoever is able to capture their attention –and their fears, ire and frustrations- can easily create an unstoppable political movement. On the other hand, there are innumerable efforts and actions that the government, the business community and diverse groups of the society head up that do nothing other than fan these flames. Put in plain terms, the strength of López Obrador not only lies in his own and undeniable ability, but also in all of the information, actions and evidence of the most diverse type that these actors put in the public way every day.

Every time the government boasts of its achievements and that the citizen does not find a way to identify himself with it anger is fueled; every time someone publishes credible evidence of corruption (whether a photograph or an analytical study),  emotions are stirred up and the one pre-candidate who denounces the corruption grows in strength day upon day; every time the enormous differences of wealth are made evident –and the attitudes that accompany them (as in the case of the “lords” and “ladies”)-, resentments grow. Sparking emotions and rousing grievances does nothing but fortify the one who knows how to manipulate them.

The country needs new emotional and rational referents for it to transform itself. The existing ones –of all the actors- do not work, thus the “poor social mood,” as the president has called it. Leadership is urgent that is capable of constructing a positive future, one that is susceptible to winning the favor of the electorate.

The Economist summed up the moment as no one else: when “the unthinkable becomes the irreversible.” The big question is whether in Mexico we will understand it or, rather, who will understand it.

www.cidac.org

@lrubiof

 Luis Rubio

   It is no secret that the government of President Peña has responded poorly to several problems and challenges in its tenure. A symbolic, but revealing, example of this was the decision to remove a government advertisement whose message was “ya chole con tus quejas” (roughly translated as “enough with your complaints”) as a way of addressing the President’s low approval ratings as well as the lack of credibility that characterize his administration.

It seems clear that this is a government that feels besieged, protected behind the walls of the Presidential residence but without the ability to understand what is happening outside. What is the reason for the President’s approval ratings’ reaching the critical situation where they are today, in his fourth year in office? The administration does not seem to even understand the nature of the problem, what the population is concerned about, and why all of a sudden the mood became so grim.

At the beginning of 2015, the British magazine The Economist stated that the President “doesn’t get that he doesn’t get it”, which summarizes both an attitude and a factual situation. If a problem cannot be accurately defined then it cannot be resolved.

Beyond the lack of willingness to understand the problem, something astonishing if only for what it says about political survival, it is also clear that even if the government had successfully responded through better communications and political management, the bottom line is that more than improved communication is required to address the challenge the Presidency faces. The country requires much clearer responses, new public policy proposals, and a rethinking of its institutions.

The political problems that characterize the country are structural which means that even the most elaborate media response would be insufficient. If The Economist is right (and it is), it is understandable that the Peña administration does not want to understand.

The structural problem

The structural problem of Mexican politics has three different angles: a lack of legitimacy, a dysfunctional system of government and non-institutional political activism.

Lack of legitimacy, a factor that encompasses the population’s perception of the government, the political system, politicians and parties, can be observed in all areas. Some obvious examples are the low popularity that characterizes the administration and its political party, the government’s paralysis and that of all the political apparatus, but especially the widespread perception of corruption and impunity which is attributed to the system and members of all political parties.

Although problems of legitimacy could be attributed to some particular events or specific individuals, the problem has a wider scope: a complete lack of ability to govern, a fact that, with few exceptions, is also characteristic of local governments throughout the country. Mexican governments do not govern because they are engaged in other matters and because they do not see themselves as responsible for creating conditions in which the population can improve their lives and prosper. In Mexico, a Governor does not get into his office to try to improve the lives of his or her constituents but rather to make money and or build the road towards a Presidential campaign. Governing is not a priority.

The dysfunctionality of the political system derives from the changes experienced in the country over nearly a century. In all this time, the system of government has not adapted to new and ever-changing circumstances. One example summarizes it all: when the government was accused of violently suppressing the 1968 student demonstrations its reaction was not to build a modern police force that was well-trained and taught to respect citizens’ rights. Instead, every government since then has chosen to never impede any demonstration or blockade, regardless of its origin or potential harm to others. From that moment in 1968 onwards, all governments in the country have opted to protect protesters at the expense of the citizenry that, needless to say, are the ones who produce, create jobs and pay taxes.

Security policy is merely a sign of the decrease in the quality of the Mexican government. Its structures were designed, organized and built for an era in which the government dominated most aspects of national life, there were no significant links between the population and the outside world, and the economy was effectively self-contained. This system of government remains though the population has tripled since 1960, the country is now fully connected to global media outlets, and citizens are connected to relatives abroad via email and are less dependent on government actions for their economic development.

 These circumstances explain various deeply concerning issues. For example, an attorney general’s office which does not have effective, independent and professional powers for criminal investigations; inefficient public spending 34 The Problem of Power that can always be manipulated by authorities; a world of flagrant corruption; and the absence of a professional bureaucracy or civil service dedicated to the management of national assets in a way that looks beyond the political authorities of the moment. Mexico never professionalized its system of government and is now paying the cost in the form of illegitimacy and dysfunctional and dismal performance in all of areas: the legislature, public security, public finances, justice, infrastructure, etc.

 Finally, there is the issue of increasing political activism. The good news is that much of this activism is an indicator of the maturity of a society willing to demonstrate, block government actions, criticize, and complain. Rising social activism has shown two trends: on the one hand, there are those who seek collective action without breaking the law or disturbing the daily lives of the rest of the population. Although these groups are growing in number, their impact can only be observed as they acquire public visibility.

Activists that take to the streets and blocking avenues as well as public buildings are excluding the citizenry and advance their own causes only by being outside of the institutional and legal framework. Some even go so far as to ask for the resignation of the President before the end of his second year in office. The fact that even demonstrations as well organized and motivated as those arising from the Ayotzinapa case have not achieved the goal of removing the President is a vivid example of the enormous distance between Mexican politicians (a topic discussed in Chapter IV) and the citizenry. Above all, it is a reflection of the aforementioned second problem: in the absence of the mechanisms that are inherent to a modern system of government, such as checks and balances, the public response to a dysfunctional government cannot be anything other than protesting, whether in an active or passive way.

Activists in Mexican society have not acquired the capacity to mobilize effectively or the power to jeopardize the government’s stay in power though this is what many such groups aspire to. Nonetheless, they have had the effect of branding the government as illegitimate, decreasing its approval ratings, and paralyzing it altogether. These all are signs of a structural problem of enormous depth. The result is that 21st century Mexico is characterized by a system of government that does not work and by a society that lacks the most essential means of participation or influence, all of which creates an environment of frustration, uncertainty, and distrust.

Old solutions

In the industrial era, governments had the ability to control their societies largely because the dynamics of production generated a self-contained system that took hold through forms of organization and participation inherent to that time, namely labor unions. In this context, all a government had to do was to create conditions of certainty for essential political and economic stakeholders and everything else would emerge from those conditions.

Back then, stability could be explained by an entire social and productive structure that would not defy those in power and did not have the capacity or information to do so. Life was simpler and the tasks and services required of government were easier to perform and provide. The old solutions worked because they were not old then –they were responses to the specific circumstances of the time, the country, and the world.

Nowadays, the real business -in social, economic and politic fields – is information and knowledge. That is the source of development, in the broadest sense of the word, of a society. What used to be about control now works thanks to creativity; what used to demand discipline now requires merit. The old education system was conceived as a mechanism for strengthening the PRI’s hegemony and controlling the population, but what is required today is a population with the ability to think, analyze, process, and transform information into economic development. In the era of knowledge the discipline of the industrial age is no longer functional since every person has more control over their lives and does not feel a connection with the old control mechanisms. In other words, the fundamental structural problem of Mexican politics is that they are stuck on the dogmas that belonged to the era of the Presidency of Lázaro Cárdenas while the country and the world now live in the information age.

My impression is that Mexico’s main problem is that the government still in place today was formed after a revolutionary movement and continues to act as such. Unlike governments emerging from society or which aim to address the population’s demands, Mexican administrations come from a group that won the Revolution and never felt obliged to cater to the people. Fidel Velázquez, the fabled labor leader, once said about the government: “By the force of arms we won power and only by the force of arms will we relinquish it.” Mexico’s system of government has not evolved towards democracy or along paths that will enable its professionalization. One needs to observe nothing more than the way in which the rules of the game (the real ones, not those written in laws and regulations) are modified with every new administration: it is difficult not to conclude that there is a fundamental problem of institutional weakness in the very structure of government.

The problem worsened as the system was modified in the nineties when the first major electoral reform (1996) led the single-party scheme to transform into a three-party system. That is to say, Mexican democracy has made great strides in electoral matters but never really opened the system in terms of power. What the various electoral reforms after 1996 did was to open up the system for two new stakeholders, PAN and PRD, without altering the power structure in Mexican society. This is neither good nor bad, except that, besides incorporating these parties into the structure of power, it did not improve the quality of government or, in the long term, provide legitimacy for the system. It is not difficult to conclude that the poor economic performance of recent decades reflects not just economic structural factors but also a reflection of the institutional weakness that characterizes the country which is, in turn, a result of political disagreements.

The deeper issue is that the objectives that have been pursued through a diverse package of reforms cannot be achieved without modifying the system of government, because a great deal of what prevents the successful implementation of the reforms is related to the political system’s way of functioning (or not functioning). The problem of power can be observed in several ways: in the perpetual unrest, in the poor quality of governance that characterizes both federal and local administrations, in the lack of continuity for public policies, and in the insecurity in the absence of a judicial system that is able to address and adjudicate everyday problems.

Although most diagnoses agree on the nature of the problem, the issue at the heart of the problem cannot be resolved until society forces politicians to respond or a leadership able to form a modern and functional institutional construction emerges. The 2015 midterm elections showed a society with an increasing willingness to assert its voice, but with clearly limited resources and skills to do so.

The Presidential response

The aforementioned context should provide the explanation for why President Peña Nieto failed to advance his government agenda. Having previously been a successful Governor, Peña Nieto claimed efficacy was his greatest asset. As soon as he took office, he initiated a legislative whirlwind. In a few months, Mexico’s Constitution had had its main articles modified. The agenda of change was not new: everything that was reformed had already been discussed for decades; the impressive feature was his ability to transform proposed reforms into law. The President displayed great negotiation skills, but the key factor (which his predecessors in the PAN party could not handle) was that he was able to control the PRI legislators. 38 The Problem of Power Having been the historical owner of power in the 20th century, the PRI is the beneficiary of the status quo. Its opposition to the previous proposals for reform can be explained due to its desire to preserve its sources of power and cash. Peña’s success was based in controlling these groups and preventing them from blocking the legislative process. However, as soon as it concluded, those same interests returned to ignore the reforms once again and continue with their traditional businesses. More important, the President did not have the will, or the power, to oppose them.

In addition to the legislative whirlwind, the new government placed itself above society and recreated old control mechanisms over the general population, Governors, the media, the unions, and businessmen. This reflected a core consideration: the government thought that the country needed to return to order and that the best model for this was to recreate the PRI’s golden era: the sixties. Although it is obvious that the old political system and the ancient economic strategy did not collapse because the then-rulers wanted it to, Peña’s government ignored the changes that had happened both in Mexico and in the world in recent decades and decided to carry out his own transformation agenda and created its own reality, as if the world would fit its preferences rather than the opposite.

The population saw the arrival of Peña Nieto and his determination with a mixture of awe and anticipation. As if he were an ancient Tlatoani, (Aztec leader), Peña was there to save Mexico. Mexicans watched him with astonishment. However, the administration’s economic performance went from bad to worse, tax increases affected the consumption of the poorest, and the anger of those affected by the increasing controls started to rise. As soon as the first crisis appeared –the straw that broke the camel’s back– all of the country had turned against the President. After the deaths of 43 students in Iguala in September of 2014, the political message was clear: it was an excuse for the whole population, disguised in collective anonymity, to express its dissent. “

The extraordinary thing was not the anger or the protests, both observable and predictable, but the government’s complete inability to respond. Gone was the effectiveness or promised efficacy –it was now replaced by a frightened and paralyzed government. The reality of power in Mexico won: it was evident that the government’s agenda would not alter the power structure but merely provide some efficiency to some sectors or activities, all without undermining the interests that benefit from the system.

President Peña’s experience showed that Mexico has a serious problem of power: there is not a basic set of rules of the game that enjoy full legitimacy amongst political stakeholders; therefore, there are no rules at all. The President has enormous powers that enable him to exercise his will arbitrarily at any time which is why investment and credibility are limited to a sexenio, the six-year presidential period, and everything revolves around the trust (or lack thereof) that the President can inspire. Thus, the main problem is that Mexico lacks institutions that provide permanence and legitimacy to the system of government as well as guarantees for Mexican stability.

Mexico is experiencing a permanent schizophrenia: major changes and poor results; successful regions and extreme poverty in others; a government that promises efficiency but only provides a small amount of it. Mexico is caught between the old system of control that still remains and a society that is more prepared and demanding. Just like old times, this enables an apparent stability, but guarantees a permanent illegitimacy. That is, until the arrival of another President with new promises.

• From the new book The Problem of Power: Mexico requires a new system of government https://www.wilsoncenter.org/sites/default/files/the_problem_of_power_mexico_requires_a_new_system_of_government_0.pdf

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

The traditional question that political scientists posed in decades past was who gets what, when and how. This economy-driven focus derived from the principle that economic performance (national or by region) exerted a direct impact on the perspective of the voters and allowed for the development of models of predictability of electoral behavior. Behind those models lies a premise that ceased being valid some time ago: they assume the existence of order and act under the dictum that this is permanent.

In a very distinct milieu, on being invited to attend the 1960 U.S. presidential election, Vicente Lombardo Toledano had it explained to him that for the first time in history, computers would be employed for the electoral process and that this would permit knowing the winner the afternoon of that same day. Lombardo, an old war-horse of Mexican politics, responded “That’s nothing; in Mexico we known six months before”. The premise was the same: the order is immanent, indisputable.

In both instances, the assumption of a permanent and predictable order has disappeared.

After the financial debacle of 2008, some analysts began to speak of a “new normality”, intimating that we had passed from one threshold to another, but that the new one would be sustainable, albeit, in this instance in economic terms, less benign. Everyone seeks order because it allows for stability and some degree of predictability. Individuals, families and countries crave those elements and become attached to the offerings of a semblance of order. Unfortunately, if one observes the world around us, everything suggests that we are entering into an era of disorder at the worldwide scale. Inexorably, Mexico will be part of that maelstrom, on occasion the protagonist.

The news of recent times reveals a grave deterioration of the order gestated after the Second World War and, admirably, after the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Migrating hordes relentlessly accost the shores of Europe, the resurgence of nationalistic movements in France, England, the U.S. and, in general, in the greater part of the developed world, imply a rejection of the existing international order, in good measure because there exists the well-attested perception in those nations that the benefits have come to roost in other nations. Each case is distinct, but the common denominator is clearly the sensation that others are winning or, even, that they are making off with the advantages of the previous winners. This week, the U.K. is faced with a momentous decision in this matter.

The British referendum responds to a clamor, hitherto from the Left, today concentrated in the Right, for the return of decision-making faculties to the country. For many of the British, the European Union (EU) has seized too many attributions, thus depreciating the quality of life of its inhabitants; in particular, they reject two factors: freedom of transit for potential migrants who have ended up “inundating” England, one of the most attractive countries for persons fleeing their native countries due to the dynamism of the British economy and the liberal nature of its institutions. On the other hand, the powers that European judicial instances have assumed are discerned by the English as aberrant and excessive. In one way or another, these disruptive elements have eventually placed in checkmate the functionality of the economic benefits that the U.K. acquires and that, without a doubt, in objective terms, are superior to the costs. However, there are no rules that govern perceptions and believers in maleficence have been gaining ground.

The decision that the British make is theirs, but its consequences could be dramatic. Not by chance have top-level U.S. and European dignitaries, from Obama down, attempted to skew the result in favor of remaining in the EU. What is evident is that this decision could trigger a dismemberment process not only of the EU itself, but also of the entire order constructed in the Post-War era and that has done so much good for humanity in terms of economic growth, stability and peace. The Americans themselves detect that their stability, above all at such a complex electoral moment, could be harshly affected.

Although distant from the European forum, we Mexicans could be severely affected by the outcome. The massacre of Orlando some days ago inevitably fortifies the hard liners, in this case Trump, as does the isolation inherent to the proponents of the so-called Brexit. This suggests that the succeeding months will be excessively risky for Mexico: every time Trump’s stock goes up, Mexico’s will be affected in the financial markets as well as in the exchange rate.  And still worse, given the weakness of Mexico’s fiscal accounts, the current vulnerability is extreme.

The world of today is exceedingly convulsive and complicated; there is no way to avoid its benefits from concentrating or for its damages not to affect us. What is urgent is pragmatism; what is available is vain and rhetorical nationalism. Regrettably, as a government and a society, Mexicans have presumed that we can abstract ourselves from what is happening outside and pretending that, following worn-out dogmas, we will attain development. The ensuing months will put that premise unsparingly to the test.

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@lrubiof

Luis Rubio

Corruption has become the nodal leitmotif of Mexican politics. Although overwhelming evidence does not exist with respect to the degree that the former affects, facilitates or impedes the functioning of the economy, the political factum is that corruption has metamorphosed into the factor around which public discussion, electoral processes, and decisions on savings and investment gyrate and, however much they deny it, the politicians’ calculations.

Beyond the analytical evidence or absence thereof, at least part of the intellectual, political and economic paralysis that the country is experiencing is due to the perception of the ubiquitousness of corruption.  The question is what to do about it.

Instead of heading up the procession, the government has managed to ignore the problem, procrastinating and creating (or promoting) mechanisms designed to keep up appearances without anything changing. The vacuum that this non-acting created got the government clobbered in last Sundays elections, while it handed the initiative on issues of corruption in the hands of activists and NGOs, many of which have turned their cause into a new religion, basing their feat not on analytical arguments (in part because the evidence is not infallible), but on beliefs: if one or another program is promoted or if a pre-established formula is adopted, corruption will evaporate as if by magic.

At the heart of the discussion (or of the array of monologues that proliferate) on corruption lies a fundamental contrast of views: for some the solution to the problem of corruption resides in new laws, independently of the fact that there’s an interminable pile of laws that are not applied. María Marván of says there is no problem sufficiently small not to merit a new law or sufficiently large not to justify a constitutional amendment. But that does not dissuade the believers, who suppose –against all historical evidence- that more laws, more regulations and more requirements, in addition to new commissions and new governmental agendas, will eradicate the phenomenon. At the end of the day, the relevant question is whether this manner of proceeding is susceptible to modifying the reality, which is all that matters.

The alternative is to think contrariwise: instead of engendering more of the same (more laws, more bureaucracy), why not recognize that, at least partially, what generates opportunities for corruption is precisely the nature of our laws, regulations and bureaucratic organisms? Might it not be that the existence of so many restrictions, bureaucratic attributions and requirements is what makes possible -and, in fact, furthers- corruption?

A personal experience, in a very specific space, taught me a great lesson: when I was a student in the U.S., I went one day the Registry of Motor Vehicles to request the insertion of a hyphen between my paternal and maternal last names on my driver’s license due to the problems I was having at the library and at the bank, in that in line with U.S. usage, they were recognizing me according to my “second last” name and not the first. Thinking of this as something obvious, I went to the office and requested the change. The desk clerk was very kind and correct and opened the page with my name on his screen but showed me that he did not have access to those fields. He told me something like “I sympathize with your problem because I went through the same thing myself, but it cannot be solved except with a mandate by a judge”.

Years later, when the express abductions began in Mexico City, I went to the drivers’ license office in my local government to request a change of address in order to remove that of my home. Armed with a statement with my office’s domicile, I explained the reason for my visit to the functionary.  Without blinking an eye, he told me “one hundred pesos”. One hundred pesos for what, I asked him. “It is one hundred pesos for the service”. And if wanted to change my name on the license? I retorted. “One hundred pesos” came the response. The one hundred pesos were for doing me the favor of changing the information and the functionary had access to any field on his computer, conferring upon him enormous power.

I cannot affirm whether the Mexican functionary was corrupt and whether the U.S. model was one of utmost probity. What I do know is that the conferring of such great discretionary powers on minor functionaries (and major ones) is immensely propitious to corruption. It would not occur to the U.S. civil servant to charge for the “service” because he had no possibility of providing it.

If one extrapolates these examples to the daily life of the bureaucracy where construction projects, purchases, contracts, regulations and all kinds of permits, licenses and concessions are decided upon, the potential for corruption is immense. Discretionary powers in the hands of public officials acting without effective counterweights are equivalent to a golden opportunity to commit arbitrary acts. Although the federal bureaucracy faces an infinity of review mechanisms (that obviously do not hinder corruption), at the state and municipal levels that does not even exist.

Thus, would it not be better to eliminate so many requisites for permits and licenses that confer such powers on the authorities that favor special interests? Would it not be better to conduct all governmental-purchase transactions via the Internet, in view of anyone who wishes to view them? In other words, would it not be better, to open rather than to close, to trust in real transparency –not the legislated one but the one that truly allows observation- and in the markets?

After 500 years of history –three hundred of colony and two hundred of bureaucratic reign- it would be reasonable to conclude that more requisites and restrictions would yield exactly the same result: simulation and impunity.

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@lrubiof