Gadfly and great satirical actor Groucho Marx once observed that “Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it, misdiagnosing it and then misapplying the wrong remedies.” The prevailing notion in Mexico is that the country is over-diagnosed, that the problems are known and understood, and that the genuine problem lies with legislators and government officials not committing to and acting upon approving “the reforms”, thus forfeiting the opportunity for the country to get ahead. However, it is not obvious whether the diagnoses have become unsullied truths, or whether the content of the reforms, reiterated ad nauseam, are correct. While the country evidently is in need of innumerable reforms, the content of these is important, and no less than key, for leading toward the objective of getting out of the rut and giving free rein to development. Nothing courts danger more than doing the incorrect correctly.

The essence of our problematic centers on a sole concept: conflict. Conflict is inherent in any society. As homogeneous as it might be, there is no community of humans that does not manifest differences, interests at odds, or incompatible perspectives. Ralph Miliband, one of my great teachers, affirmed that without conflict, it is impossible to understand human society. Conflict is part of the daily life of the most institutionalized and civilized, as well as the most contentious and violent of societies. The difference between these does not reside in the existence of conflict, but rather, in how conflict is processed and revolved.

The prevailing diagnosis trusts that the problem of institutional paralysis lies in our incapacity to agree on something. Thus, the argument goes, it is urgent to find a way to bridge the gap among positions; this done, the country would begin to flourish. Thence, proposals that are that are oriented not toward channeling conflict but, instead, to suppressing it: to create majorities, even if they are artificial, so that, this time, we can emerge from the impasse. In essence, there is nostalgia for the presidential solutions of yore, and concurrently, for the Spanish and Chilean transitions in which all political forces agreed to disregard the past in order to construct a new future.

Contemplated in retrospect, the circumstances of these two nations prior to the end of dictatorial government were very distinct from those of our reality. Both Spain and Chile built legal systems that functioned as mechanisms to settle disputes, and that afterward served as platforms for the transition itself. In Spain, there was an explicit agreement to maintain the post-Franco Constitution, not because it was good or because it had the blessing of the new political structure, but because all forces recognized how fundamental it was to maintain a legal regime to which everyone was obligated and that set down the rules of the game. In Mexico, the rules of the game were those of the PRIist system, and were based, not on a functional legal system, but on the power of the president. This system eroded and finally collapsed in 2000. In contrast with Chile and Spain, Mexico entered into a political transition process without a map, without game rules, and without institutions capable of channeling and resolving political conflict. Viewed in this manner, it should have been obvious that a transition such as those in Chile and Spain was simply inconceivable in Mexico.

Then along came what Joaquín Villalobos denominated “the democratic deception syndrome.” For those who expected a smooth transition, disenchantment has been major. The greatest problem at present does not lie in lack of action, but in error in diagnosis and closed-mindedness when faced with the desideratum for analysis. Rather than recognizing the inevitability of conflict as a component of human nature, the debate has been absorbed in the need to impose majorities and to returning to what supposedly worked under the PRIist regime that, in all fairness, had it been so marvelous, would not have fallen as it did…

Democracy is inevitably conflictive; it generates uncertainty and opens spaces for the public and political participation of all social actors, including those who are undesirable. Democracy requires rules for it to be able to work, and these are the product of negotiations in which all of the actors relinquish the privileges of the old order in exchange for institutionalism: it is not a simple process, nor is it one lacking in contradictions. The old establishment attempted absolute control over minds and souls, and by this route, the suppression of conflict. As imperfect as our democracy may be, the opening inexorably entails the presence and involvement of indigenous and narco communities, the opinion makers and the politicians, businessmen and unions, leaders and citizens. What in the past appears not to have existed –because it was suppressed- is now an inherent part of the social debate. Therefore, the notion that an artificially created majority constitutes a solution is absurd: what is quashed in one space will reappear in another. In a certain manner, this is the main lesson learned from the Zapatista uprising: conflict exists and will surface in some form or another; if there are no institutional mechanisms for conflict to manifest itself, it will materialize in other, less attractive, behaviors or conduits.

The country is experiencing conflict in all of its ambits, many very sensitive. Differences in perspectives and clashes of interest are ubiquitous. Much of the disjointedness in which we live has deep roots in reality, a reality that is easy to thrust aside. For example, the underground economy perhaps employs at present an absolute majority of the urban workforce in the country. It can be claimed that the underground economy does not exist, but this does not nullify it, and, more importantly, it does not change the fact that the incentives for those who inhabit it are distinct from those belonging to the formal economy. It is here that Mexican society comes face to face with a little understood schism: on the one hand there is the formal economy (which includes professionals and bureaucrats on an equal par with the de facto powers), and the other, the underground economy (which incorporates narcos and street vendors, the latter extraordinarily vulnerable to the networks of corruption and violence of the former.

The solution to this state of affairs does not begin with legislation. Without an elementary political pact or arrangement that precedes any reform, no law will alter the reality. The underlying matter to resolve is how to channel the conflict and confer legitimacy upon the instruments of government, including those that assert the law on those refusing to be part of the political regime resulting from this arrangement. Denying the inevitability of conflict is tantamount to preserving the status quo.

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Earl Long, the three nonconsecutive-term populist governor and self-styled “last of the red hot poppas” of U.S. politics, once affirmed that “Someday Louisiana is gonna get good government. And they ain’t gonna like it.” I hope that, one day, we will have a good system of government in Mexico, but I fear that before being able to construct one, we would of necessity have to free ourselves from myriad myths, dogmas, and truths that are not true. Perhaps we could begin with themes such as our inability to develop a long-term view, so that the country would not have to reinvent itself every six years.

Our current governmental system was born after the Revolution and as a response to the Porfirio Díaz regime. Faced with the chaos in the wake of the Revolution, the National Revolutionary  Party (PNR), grandfather of the present PRI party, was built as a unifying structure of the political forces, groups, militias, and gangs of the moment, but above all, as a mechanism devoted to disciplining these contingents, structuring a system of government, and providing a sense of direction for the country. If one were to take a glance backward, it is evident that the PRI system stabilized the country and, employing virtually any instrument that it considered necessary at any given moment, afforded Mexico years of political peace during which the economy prospered.

But this system responded not only to the chaos of the moment, but also to the Porfirio Díaz government and its sequelae. In the constitutional structure of 1917, and later in the system established by Plutarco Elías-Calles, two principles were adopted that became the norm for Mexican political development for decades that, viewed in retrospect, have had atrocious effects. On the one hand, the system was founded on the principle of no-reelection, which instigated the revolutionary movement. Rejection of the despotism of the Porfiriato was transformed into a one-term system of government, a mechanism conceived of as a way to avoid perpetuation of power and to which the popular catch phrase “no ill can last six years” was consigned.

The second component of the PRIist system, also a response to the Porfirian government, was, as scholar Roger Hansen argued, the institutionalization of the Porfiriato: it eliminated permanent personalism and edified an institution capable of shaping Mexican politics. Perhaps our greatest problem today resides precisely in the manner in which PRIism imbued political continuity.

The no-reelection regime was developed with the objective of avoiding perpetuation of power. In this, the logic and imperative of history was evident and necessary. What this regime did not resolve, or rather, what it did in actuality engender, was the articulation of a system of incentives that in essence thwarts the country’s development. Perhaps this appears too harsh, but let us espy the inherent logic in the non-existence of reelection as viewed from both sides: that of the politician or public official, and that of the citizen.

A system without reelection perverts democracy because it concedes to it a limited period of government (three or six years, according to the office), within which the system has no responsibility at all. During this period, doings or undoings may be undertaken without accountability to anyone, without compliance with campaign promises, and without being required to confront the electorate for the latter to qualify by means of the vote. The structure of incentives deriving from no-reelection in effect removes the citizen from the political equation.

If we place ourselves in the shoes of the legislator, governor, politician, or civil servant, the logic of the six-year term creates perennial uncertainty regarding their subsequent job situation and obliges them to engage in the inexorable manufacture of our next post from nearly the day they get to where they are. In some cases, the search is limited to the political/electoral world, and the sole potential impropriety in which they could engage is to attempt to bias the results in favor of their party or their next electoral race. However, in many others, the system is party to the development of businesses of every ilk, as well as obscure agreements with the media, the unions, or the entrepreneurs. Presidents will be concerned with their legacies and with how they will be remembered by history, but all the rest permanently lie in wait.

The system is so perverse in this respect that no true civil service career has even been created that would confer continuity on public policy in excess of the six-year presidential term-of-office (and sometimes, not even that). While in other nations there is a senior civil service that in fact leads the management of government affairs, in Mexico we have entrusted tenderfeet with the most sensitive responsibilities. For example, no Parisian or Londoner would believe that a metropolis such a Mexico City does not have a city manager who remains independent from the political circuit.

But even more worrisome than these subtleties is the fact that no one is responsible for what transpires in the long term. A Canadian functionary who makes a decision today will most probably be around ten or twenty years from now and will pay the consequences if the decision made was found to be in error. In our case, the system eliminates people in wholesale fashion and releases them, for all practical purposes, from any responsibility.

Perhaps the greatest expense generated by this structure of incentives is that no one thinks in the long term; only individual career trajectories are constructed. Instead of decisions of State, with all of the considerations and consequences that these entail, decisions in Mexico tend to be makeshift, oriented toward what is expedient: they save the day at the moment, but do not solve the deep-rooted problem.

No-reelection has entertained the virtue of favoring the circulation of the political class, of accommodating groups, and of creating space for all of the currents of each party, but it has not impeded the consolidation in state governments of personages who are more appropriate to the feudal era, nor has it stopped sinister figures from going from post to post ad infinitum. The price of no-reelection has been immense. At the same time, installing it would not be easy precisely because of the deeply rooted species of feudalism that we have.

Some years ago, at an encounter between the Mexican and Brazilian presidents, I asked the Mexican Secretary of State what similar meetings there had been between the presidents of the two countries during prior presidential terms-of-office. His reply was that there was no registry, nor were there any minutes, of these presidential rendezvous. A system with no sense of State is also bereft of an institutional memory and does not back continuity of its personnel. This provokes poorly meditated decisions that translate into magical solutions, with the expected results. A country without counterweights ‒and a well-structured reelection system can be literally that‒ does not have the capacity to respond; thus, it becomes paralyzed and is prone to causing a crisis. It is time to begin to construct a real country.

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Competition is vital for efficient market functioning: without competition, there is permanent propensity for price growth, no incentive for improving the quality of goods and services, and innovation is inhibited. Without competition, an economy tends to stagnate, and the population lives in a state of harassment by rent-seeking businesses without even minimal interest in offering better products, prices, terms, or quality. The logic of promoting competition is absolute and transparent.

This is more complex in practice. Monopolies (or monopolistic practices) can only prevail as the result of three circumstances: the existence of “natural monopolies” (such as the electrical grid or railway distribution networks); the presence of legally sanctioned control of an activity or sector, as occurs with oil or electrical energy in Mexico; and the protection that is directly or indirectly conferred by the governmental regulations upon an enterprise or sector when these constitute virtually insurmountable barriers to entry that impede access to competitors.

Conceptually, there are three ways to control monopolistic activities: through legislation; by means of regulations, or through the sector’s being the property of and operated by the government. None of these is perfect. Enactment of antitrust law is costly and complex, and inexorably susceptible to abuse. Government monopolies always generate rent seekers, above all the labor unions. The majority of monopolistic practices are generated because companies capture the regulating authority and get it to produce regulations that protect and benefit the incumbents. Once these exist, they operate under the aegis of “what God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” The overwhelming majority of cases in the country in which anti-competitive practices endure derive from the regulatory framework. Thus, the efficient way to purge Mexico of its monopolies is by means of deregulation and radical modernization of the regulatory framework currently in effect. In addition, if we want a truly competitive economy, we are obliged to confront this same theme with respect to government monopolies.

George Stigler, an expert on the theme, said that the merits and advantages of a market economy have much less to do with the theoretical sustenance of competition than with the structure and organization of each specific market. Therefore, the key is to understand the regulatory framework’s origin and functioning. The corporatist structure that characterized Mexico’s economy and politics throughout a substantial part of the 20^th century was characterized by countless mechanisms committed to controlling unions, companies, and people. By the same token, it constructed a regulatory framework oriented toward the functioning of economic activity within the enclave of a closed economy. The government granted exclusive manufacturing or import licenses guided by the principle that industrial development would be promoted in this fashion. Independent of the results of the import substitution and control strategy, the scheme rendered businesses dependent on the government, because, through regulation, it determined their own viability and profitability. Therefore, it is not surprising that, due to its origin, the regulatory framework not only did not promote competition, but instead, it drove the creation of barriers to it: in fact, everything was done to protect companies from competition. Although many directives were eliminated when imports were liberalized, others persist and have multiplied.

Additionally, the anti-inflation pacts that were implemented in the 1980s entailed tight cooperation among businesses in each sector, since these concordats were based on agreement among producers to break the inertia of inflation. However, from the perspective of competition, doing away with inflation came at great expense, because companies became accustomed to communicate among themselves; thus, not to compete. This is another “sin” of our past that weighs heavily upon the present economic structure as well.

The combination of weak regulatory structure, institutions with little credibility, and “de facto powers” with veto capacity that are not subject to the exercise of any authority obliges us to conceive of novel and creative ways to advance competition in the country. Faced with a similar situation, at least in certain aspects, the European Union devised a regional competition authority. Something similar could be explored in our situation: a North American authority in this matter provided with the institutional strength, neutrality, and credibility necessary for successful operation.

The bill proposed by the Executive Branch to reform the law in matters of competition constitutes a significant improvement in that it takes steps toward professionalization of the Federal Competition Commission (COFECO). However, the initiative does not deal with the central problem: the fact that the entity retains its mix of prosecutorial and tribunal, that is, it is judge and jury, which creates a permanent inclination toward partiality. The absence of counterweight leads to excesses, starring roles, and decisions to act or not to act based on the preferences of the members of the Commission or those of its president, to a greater degree than to a detailed and defendable analysis proceeding from incontrovertible evidence. The current structure confers excessive discretional faculties on the COFECO president and poses no limits on the president’s playing field. A poorly understood autonomy and one without counterweights ends up being another de facto power.

At present, the sole resource that a defendant company possesses when faced by COFECO decisions is the amparo mechanism, a procedure that may take years to reach a conclusion. What is truly required is an effective counterweight that does not lend itself to delay tactics, but that does curb abuse. The ideal mechanism would be a Federal Tribunal that specializes in the matter without resort to the amparo, similar, in concept, to that currently taking place in the Federal Electoral Institute (IFE) and the Electoral Tribunal. This structure has proven to be efficient, to avoid protagonistic conduct, and to generate expedited decisions: both entities are cognizant of the fact that there is an institution of reference, which prods them into acting with the greatest of care.

The essence of the new bill resides in the possibility of imposing severe economic anc criminal penalties on businesses and their officials engaging in anti-competitive practices. Given our history, a qualitative change of this nature may have a good rationale, but cannot be advanced in the absence of an institutional equilibrium that guarantees impeccable, professional application of the law.  Without counterweights that work, a law of this nature would, of necessity, be inquisitorial.

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All of the surveys put it in first place. With over two years remaining until the presidential contest, surveys are, to a great extent, irrelevant, but the symbolism is clear, and what underlies the growth of the PRI in terms of popular preferences even more so. It is obvious that we should be preparing ourselves for the return of the PRI to power. What is not as obvious is that the PRIistas are ready.

A little while ago, I read an interesting story about Einstein that is applicable to the PRI. On one occasion, his students protested about the grades they were given on his examinations. Their protest was that the problems that they were called upon to solve were exactly the same as those in the exam of the year before. Well, yes, responded Einstein. The questions are identical. However, what you have to understand is that the answers have changed. Apocryphal or not, this story serves as a metaphor for the reality with which the return of the PRI could be accompanied.

The answers have changed, but it is not obvious that the PRIistas have understood this. If the PRI returns, it would be nothing more than a caricature of its former self, but its objective is to restore what existed before, beginning with the old-style presidency. The PRI that has escalated in the surveys is not different from the PRI of yesteryear, reformed and transformed: it has not been required to do anything more than wait for the lack of a vocation for government to quash their historical opposition.

What no one can deny is that today’s reality is not the same as that when the PRI was in power, and for this reason, the answers can not be the same. The relevant question at present should be: How should a modern country be constructed under the present circumstances? But the most prominent PRIistas in the contest are not asking themselves this: evidence shows them to be much more concerned with restoring their capacity for the imposition of former times than with developing novel and creative forms of governing with a vision of the future.

The defeat of the PRI in 2000 changed the reality of power because it decentralized it and was swiftly taken captive of by the governors, legislative leaders, and the “de facto powers”, which took on a life of their own at the fringes of, and beyond, the PRI. It will not be possible to restore the way it was before. As Lech Walesa declared shortly before the defeat that his party suffered at the hands of the old Polish Communist Party, it is not the same making fish soup from an aquarium as making an aquarium from fish soup. With all the advantages that it possesses, the PRI that would reappear would be structurally distinct from what it was.

The structure of power changed, but the country has not found an effective way to govern itself. Surely part of this has to do with the personal abilities of those responsible for driving the fate of the country, but a great deal is the result of the real dislocations that have taken place. The country has a poor governmental structure and lacks an effective system of checks and balances that plainly defines the spaces of action of each of the branches of government (thus, so many attempts at political reform directed toward biasing the rules in favor of one or another). An internecine struggle is taking place between those who desire perfection and those who want all of the benefits for themselves, ignoring the experience of multiple countries, which demonstrates that a country triumphs when the best possible arrangement that makes it work –rather than a perfect one- is achieved.

Unfortunately, none of the political forces, or the political potentates, is  thinking or operating under this logic. All want the presidency, and many are skewing everything to maintain their coteries of power in case they do not win. No one is developing a long-term view that constructs and sets the bases for a distinct country. The latter is particularly true of the PRI. More worried about returning to power than envisaging what to do afterward, they have sought to strengthen their territorial structure, but also to “correct” the “errors” of democracy, undermining and marking off the autonomous entities (such as the electoral institute and tribunal,  and Transparency), and promoting political reforms to match.

The country of today is no longer that of the era of PRI dreams in which all was internal negotiation and in which everyone, including the losers, came out winners. The Mexico of today is a very decentralized country in which the logic of the producers is that of their clients and markets, that of the governors is to feed their fiefdoms (and their wallets), and that of the run-of-the-mill Mexican, to attempt to survive. It is paradoxical that the PRIistas are so content with their conceivable return to the presidency with only 38% of the electoral preferences. What this tells me is that 62% of the population is not equally happy. The era of overwhelming majorities disappeared from the political map some time ago, and it is not probable that these will return, no matter how many stratagems are devised.

Surely there is no guarantee that the PRI will come into power again. Rather than a plan to return to, arrive at, or stay in power, respectively, for each of the large contending parties, what Mexico requires is a strategy of development that recognizes such a complex political reality. The pendulum moves because the population is fed up, but this, in turn, comes and goes.

The current reality is complex for two reasons: one, because the power is, in effect, decentralized, and those who hold it have distinct perceptions of the reality. For PRIistas, Mexico always was democratic, for PANistas democracy arrived in 2000, and for PRDistas, it has yet to arrive. Having a legislative majority does not resolve these differences, nor does it diminish the incentive to boycott and undermine the president. The other source of complexity comprises our possessing a dreadful institutional structure, and there is no reason to think that this would be any other way: cases such as that of Spain –where all the political forces came to an agreement to work together towards the transformation of the country- do not come about frequently. Therefore, instead of envisioning what will not come to pass, it would be much more productive to observe the few successful countries that have achieved a process of consolidation despite the absence of initial consensus.

India and Brazil are two good examples. We have been blinded for years to their changes, due to the attractiveness that the elegant solutions illustrated by Spain and Chile appear to be to us. But the success of these other countries should alert us to what really allowed them to emerge from their plight: leadership, and clarity of course. This powerful combination has come about in both cases: parties and presidents or prime ministers come and go, but both India and Brazil have experienced more than fifteen years with a sole development strategy each. Our failure does not lie in the impossibility of constructing a functional democracy, but rather in ignoring that what is important is that the economy advances to concede space to everything else. Whoever wins.

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Mexican politicians are an odd combination of conservatism and temerity. They have abstained from the actions and responses that have been needed for years, in part because Mexican society is very divided in terms of what to do, but also because leaders have not emerged who are able to head a project of prudent and reasonable change. Despite this, once in a while we witness examples of great daring, sudden decisions to act, as if celerity were an alternative to logical reasoning and the proper understanding of public affairs. The combination of inaction and intrepidness, besides its perversity, is, above all, risky because it is sustained in a self-serving and fallacious world view. Nothing good, nothing that contributes to the well-being of the life of the population, can ensue when the political class acts in such a manner.

We are entering into a process of debate concerning the type of political and institutional reforms that the country requires to be able to function. As is natural, the proposals that have been presented reflect contrasting stances. Certain politicians, beginning with the president and the PRI leader in the Senate, have issued strong and clear statements. Diverse analysts and observers have afforded valuable perspectives and evaluations on the costs and benefits of the distinct reform possibilities. All of these recognize something essential: the design of the institutions -the incentives that these harbor for those who direct and operate them, as well as for the citizenry- is the determining factor in the attainment or failure of the reform. Good design could open opportunities and generate positive responses, while poor design could translate into yet more paralysis.

In recent years, we have had vast opportunities to observe failed attempts at reform. The way in which the banks were privatized -with minimum capital requirements- led to their disastrous collapse some years later. The electoral reform of 2007 did not resolve electoral problems, and did, on the other hand, polarize the society. The structure and content of the reforms is key for the success of the latter; good intentions are not enough: the reverse is true in the reform process itself, in which it is fundamental to recognize that there are always opportunistic and abusive individuals who will make the worst possible use of the institutions. Consequently, it is crucial to meditate on the complete panorama and not be misled by fallacious or purely self-seeking conceptions of the reality.

The executive-legislative debate has focused its attention on a series of themes that would revamp the relationship between the two public powers. Among the topics under discussion, we find ratification of the cabinet by the senate, re-election of legislators and municipal presidents, and the constitution of an executive figure appointed by the legislative power: a cabinet head. Each of these themes would imply substantial reconformation of the political functioning of the country. Cabinet ratification would submit, for legislative consideration, the appointments, which have to date been the privilege of the executive branch. Re-election of legislators and municipal presidents would modify the relationship between legislators and voters, and would in turn transform the ties between candidates and parties; re-election of municipal presidents would change the relationship between voters and legislators and of these with their parties, altering the incentives of the administrative authority in closest proximity to the population to carry out longer-term projects, and above all, there would be someone responsible for project results. The creation of a semi-parliamentary Prime Ministerial figure, such as that in France, would change our presidential model by the roots.

Each of these themes and proposals merits serious discussion. As thoughts and ideas, they are exquisite, and permit us to imagine substantial alterations in the inducements that drive our politicians and representatives at present. However, none of these can be carried out in practice if they do not consider, and resolve, all of the perimeters that they entail.

The matter of re-election of legislators and municipal presidents is particularly sensitive. The advantages of re-election are many and eminently obvious. The absence of re-election engenders incentives for poor achievement and promotes the irresponsibility of the officials who enjoy -at least in formal terms- representation of the populace or those charged with local administration. From the citizens’ perspective, re-election would enable professionalization of legislators and municipal presidents, in order to empower both with a closeness to the citizenry, and would strengthen the permanence, all of this subject to voter decisions, of trustworthy officials savvy in issues that are key for the country. Although circulation of politicians in power has its benefits, it can in no way be compared with that produced by experienced legislators, who are able to be reliable counterparts within their immediate environment, as well as in the totality of public life. What is not obvious is whether any of these advantages would be achieved with the proposed reform.

As is everything in our sparse debate, the problem lies in the reality. In the real life of our country, the state governors own the electoral procedures, the nomination of candidates, and the flow of resources. A great project of institutional re-design could be shipwrecked at the most vulnerable point: that over which the governors exercise absolute control. Unfortunately, the governors own the political parties at the local level, dominate the distribution process of public funds, and control the state electoral institutes. Given this frame of reference, the notion that the citizenry would decide on the re-election of municipal presidents and legislators appears somewhat naive. It is not difficult to imagine the scenario in which re-election would become an instrument in the hands of the governors, so that, through the party, they would impose their preferences on who, and who not, to re-elect, for the sake of perpetuating their power: precisely contrariwise to what is proposed by the reform initiatives.

The true Mexico is much more unrelentless and complex than what is suggested by the ideas debates. The view that modifying one aspect, however crucial, of our political life would lead to a general transformation of the country is extraordinarily ingenuous. But it does not have to be this way: for example, as one part of the reforms, a National Election Institute could be created -an IFE, endowed with responsibility for elections in the country- with the purpose of protecting the candidates, restricting gubernatorial might, and providing a better opportunity for the success of a reform as ambitious as this one. Without this, the proposed reforms will do nothing but further tighten the noose.

Referring to the end of the Soviet Union, Solzhenitsyn wrote that “the revolution is an amalgam of former party officials, quasi-democratic KGB officers and black market operators that today concentrate power and represent a dirty hybrid never seen before.”

We in Mexico have our own fair collection of hybrids that explain many of the contrasts and gaps that characterize us. They also illustrate the limitations of any development project that does not include comprehensive solutions to our problems.

To begin with, Mexico seems to be the land of no definition. We prefer partial solutions rather than definitive actions. The phrase used by many lawyers in Mexico “it is better to have a bad deal than a good fight” is not only a common practice but a logical response to our circumstance. Except that this way of dealing with problems only works when the fundamental issues have been resolved, when there are structures and institutions that protect the decision process, when the contracts made are respected and they are used to protect the rights of all citizens. In the absence of an environment of this nature, half measures only bring about mediocre results.

 
Here’s a small sample of our hybrids:

1. Taxes are a world unto itself. In our country there are two types of citizens: those who pay taxes and those who enjoy exceptions and exemptions. The former live in a controlled world where their taxes are withheld even before they receive their income. They are citizens who, willingly or unwillingly fulfill their obligations to society and, by that fact, are continually besieged with more taxes. Alongside them, there is a wonderful hybrid; there is a world of exceptions, privileges and exemptions. Special tax regimes hide large incomes and low taxes. Many simply do not pay any tax and then get offended when a general VAT is proposed.

2. Teachers illustrate another of our exceptional hybrids: recently, the Ministry of Education introduced a system to hire based on a contest. Many of the people who applied for the new positions are teachers already at work who want a second “plaza” (tenured position), as well as aspiring teachers. The shocking thing is that the overwhelming majority of those already teaching who completed the exam failed and, yet, maintain their other, existing, position. Meanwhile, new applicants must pass the exam or remain unemployed. First and second class citizens.

3. The business world is made of two main groups: those subject to competition and those protected and sheltered. The former have had to change their ways to survive, while the second has become an burden on everyone else, preventing progress. Overall, industrial goods are subject to competition but not the services or goods produced by the government. How many companies have closed from the excessive costs imposed by the government on the activities and services on which their survival depends?

4. In the legislature we have two classes of congressmen and senators: those who are elected and those who are appointed. None represents the citizenry and, in our extremely peculiar idiosyncrasy, all owe their jobs to the party or governor who appoints them and not to the voting citizen.

5. Women live in a world of rules defined in an era when it was common for them to stay at home but the reality of their daily lives is one of hardship. However, virtually no public service is designed to fit their needs: schools, health services and transportation function as if women were equal to men in their daily responsibilities.

6. Although there are many reasons to be proud that there is greater transparency in public service, it is now exceedingly clear we still have  opaque unions, state and local governments as well as the legislative and judicial branches of power.

7. Public safety has demanded that the army gets involved in activities and responsibilities that are not part of their role and for which they were not trained. However, even with the backlash that their involvement has brought about, we still lack a modern police force able to replace the army. There is nothing more pathetic than the reluctance of governors to transform this fundamental aspect of their responsibility.

8.  State governors enjoy the great privilege of not being accountable to anyone, least of all to their local constituents. Instead of raising taxes in their home states, they prefer to press the federal government and squeeze Congress to raise their budget. Perhaps the biggest difference with Brazil is that in that country, they are able to raise a sum several times higher in property taxes than ours as a percentage of the GNP. Without accountability to citizens, spending is nothing more than an instrument of power and personal advancement. Mexico does not have a centralized or a federal system, but quite the opposite.

9.  The contrast between the federal electoral authorities (which, despite the 2007 Reform remain absolutely professional and neutral) and the state electoral institutes, almost all appointed by governors and their subordinates is quite clear. We have democracy in plots.

10. Maybe there isn’t a more pernicious hybrid than the one that characterizes our “mixed” economy where there is never any clarity regarding what is private and what is public, who appropriates the benefits of government spending and the benefits of the energy monsters, all at the expense of jobs and wealth that could create a truly competitive economy. Dysfunctional hybrids to serve particular interests.

Instead of general rules, egalitarian institutions and the realm of impartial laws, what we have instead is a world of patches that never fit together well. Some things work and some do not, but nobody seems to care. Hybrids allow two incompatible worlds to co-exist side by side: the abiding citizen who by conviction or because she has no choice and another one enjoying the exceptions that allow them to live in a world of impunity. A system of hybrids that preserves halftones and patronage, corruption and protection for a few while requiring the opposite for the majority, causes half efforts and inconsistent commitments that undermine the essential factor that drives any society: trust.

Many of our problems begin with this peculiar blend of responsibilities that no one assumes and that are the essence of the privilege and inequality that characterize the country. Originally, the current deadlock stems from the collusion of interests that enable these hybrids to be the norm rather than the exception.

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While we here in Mexico are, literally, eaten up inside by trifling infernos and washerwoman infighting, the world moves ahead with extraordinary celerity, creating and changing realities and futures in its wake. Whoever has observed the dynamic by means of which many of the pillars of worldwide stability have changed over the past two years could do nothing more than be astonished by everything that has been upended.

Following the sage advice of the great baseball player and manager Casey Stengel, who said “never make predictions, especially about the future”, I would like to share a series of observations on themes that are in our surroundings and that could affect us and oblige us to rethink what is important for our development. These are reflections on facts and tendencies whose sole common denominator is the depth and rapidity of the change that is taking place.

• The generalized perception is that we are overwhelmed by BRICs, the complex of countries identified by an investment bank as the most probable nations to achieve high growth rates in the coming years, i.e., Brazil; Russia; China, and India. However, as Macario Schettino aptly notes, the Mexican per-capita Gross internal product (GDP) is higher than that of three of these nations (the fourth, Russia), despite that our economy has grown much more slowly than these. This resolves nothing, but it obliges us to put our stagnation into perspective, which is certainly more mental than physical or economic.
• It is in vogue to see Brazil as the country that “did it”. However, it must be understood that while there is much that is enviable in the economic dynamic that it has acquired, the reasons for Brazil’s success are very concrete and its forthcoming risks are very real. In Brazil, several reforms have been carried out, and the Brazilians have been much more intelligent than we in some themes, for example, in the manner in which they privatized their telecommunications. But the main source of recent Brazilian success does not rest upon great reforms, but rather, on the clearsightedness and continuity of its leadership. The Brazilians have had two very distinct presidents in the last 15 years, but only one development strategy. Cardoso carried out reforms, the majority of which were less ambitious than ours, and Lula afforded them continuity. It is difficult to imagine two leaders so contrasting in ideology or in personality, but the success of their country resides in the intelligence that they had to do what was imperative, so that the second of them would be able to continue the project of the first, whether or not it would imply breaking the second’s campaign promises. Brazil has many outstanding industrial assets, including airplanes and machinery, but its recent exporting success lies in the apparently insatiable Chinese demand for raw material and foodstuffs. One question that is not at all irrelevant is what would happen on changing the tendencies in a country that has generated all of this demand for Brazilian goods?
• In the popular imaginary, China has become the world power -or threat- of the future. Within this context, it is interesting to listen to what is being said by Chinese Premier Wen Jia-bao, who has been unusually frank in warning of the risks of an economic collapse. Not long ago, he noted that “the greatest problem in the Chinese economy is that its growth is unstable, unbalanced, uncoordinated, and unsustainable”. More recently, a periodical quoted him as opposing new investment projects because there was an excess of investments that were creating a bubble and because the overwhelming majority of the stimulus package that his government organized has been used to subsidize banks and government enterprises, which cannot have another effect but to continue inflating the bubble. Although China has currency reserves upward of two trillion dollars, it cannot utilize these to solve the debt problem of its enterprises and banks because this would impede financing its buyers (essentially the U.S.). At the same time, China’s exports have diminished because its main client, the U.S., has been importing much less than before. To go from being a fundamentally exporting nation toward its internal market will have to occur in the next years, but it is not obvious that China will achieve this without mishaps. Recent evidence suggests that it will be very difficult for China to continue growing at the rhythm of the most recent decades, which would affect the rest of the world.
• The U.S. economy is changing swiftly. While some of its old industrial sectors languish, other recuperate, but what is most significant is the exceptional growth of activities that could become major indicators of its future growth, above all in matters of biotechnology, communications and other areas, such an innovation and technological development, in which the economic situation represents no restriction.

Perhaps the strangest thing in this entire scenario is the fact that we appear to be content with the panorama that encircles us, or, at least, resigned to our sluggishness. The political as well as the economic change taking place in our principal business partner, the U.S., (and in our main competitor, China) has enormous consequences for us and opens immense opportunities that no one appears to be contemplating. For example, the ever more quarrelsome nature of its trading strategies has been translated into conflicts and compensatory taxes on Chinese and Brazilian products that we probably could replace. The same is true in the area of health, an issue that has consumed more than one year of political debate in the U.S. and in which we could perhaps be part of the solution by offering U.S.-accredited health services at a lower cost. Despite this, we possess no strategy to seize the opportunities or, at least, to attempt to take advantage of them.

One way to overestimate our difficulties -as well as overestimating our partners and competitors- is to underestimate our assets. The Mexican economy has not grown considerably in per-capita terms during the last two decades, but the financial stability that has been achieved has enormous advantages, above all if we compare it with the crisis situation that other nations around us are experiencing and those that follow these will. Although we appear to be incapable of reaching it, the sources of success of other nations appear to be much more attainable than is commonly believed: with a few legislative and executive fixes, each within its own confines, Mexico could procure the initiation of a great transformation process. Brazil has shown that the most important thing for achieving this is to have convincing leadership, one with greater convictions than interests.

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“The devil is in the details” counsels an old refrain. In the case of the political reforms that are being debated at present in the public forum, something very peculiar has taken place: from a rotund negative for reform, we have proceeded to the logic that what is important is to approve a reform, any reform at all, independent of its content. As if it were a process of mass production, what is relevant is that Congress get the job done, not that the agenda contribute to improving the life of Mexicans, or, at the very least, to facilitating decision-making in the political system. This sounds more like an effort to satisfy the chorus than an attempt to transform and improve the system of government that we have.

What is important in a reform is the objective that it pursues and the probability that this objective will be achieved with the changes that are carried out. Changing just to change is not only senseless, but is also dangerous because it contributes to continuing to undermine the institutions, and, above all, because it can exert unanticipated effects that are much more damaging than the status quo. Worse yet when voices are few and interests are many.

In the abstract, many of the reforms proposed make absolute sense. But our history is rich in abstract discussions that on coming alight upon a law, a decision or the creation of an institution, frequently do not achieve the objective that these proposed. In the 19th century, many of the debates sustained by monarchists and republicans, liberals and conservatives regarding how the nature of the country desired was to be constructed, in many cases had more to do with the preference for imitating Europe or the U.S., respectively, than with understanding the reality of Mexico and responding to it. In a certain manner, the system that engendered the PRI was the first autochthonous response in more than an entire century of independent life.

The present discussion recalls much of the 19th century: the importance of adopting this or that institutional design because it functions well “there”. In stating this, I do not wish to suggest that Mexico is in any way a unique country, so distinct from the remainder of the human race that it cannot imitate or adapt successful institutions from other latitudes. Instead, my concern resides in the pretension of adopting institutions or institutional designs without adapting these to our reality. In too many cases, the proposals respond not to what works in other latitudes, but rather, to very-short-term electoral and political calculations. When this is the tonic, it would be better to begin by negotiating deep-rooted political agreements among the actors themselves rather than to bring about legislative processes that will never be fulfilled or that, from the out start, will never enjoy full legitimacy.

There are, of course, diverse reform proposals that possess all the sense in the world and that certainly would enjoy broad agreement. For example, who could object that the line of succession be precisely defined, in black and white, in the case of “absolute” absence of the President of the Republic, a theme that, for explicable reasons (more than one President was assassinated to make way for his Vice President…), the Constitution never achieved.

On the other hand, there are proposals that simply have no reason to be. The notion of converting the Public Prosecutor into an autonomous entity not only has no beginning or end conceptually or in the existing reality, but also can even be extremely destructive. The Public Prosecutor must respond to the State authority, whether it be the Executive (as in the case of the Attorney General (PGR) at present), or to the Judiciary, or to both (as in the U.S.), but not to itself. I share the idea that it is fundamental to end the monopoly of penal action in order to professionalize and de-politicize the office of the Public Prosecutor, but that would not be equivalent to leaving it to its leisure. Can someone imagine that would occur with a Chapa-Bezanilla (a former Public Prosecutor that was inspired by his own vendettas) without a boss or control?

Some of the proposed reforms have sense in the abstract, but clash with reality. In a democratic and civilized country, one would expect that the Cabinet would be ratified by the Senate. But Mexico has not reached this stage of development, and ratification could become a negotiation process aimed less at developing a proper check on presidential power than at limiting the president’s powers through the back door. This is the perfect example of the type of reform that is necessary but that is not conceivable until broad and profound agreement has intervened concerning power: how it is distributed; how it is recognized, and how it is legitimized. In the absence of this, the only thing that would be achieved would be heightened paralysis, or the de facto transfer of the executive power to the Senate.

There are reforms that possess no greater purpose than that of satisfying the critics and faultfinders. Reducing the size of the legislative chambers cannot, nor should it, be an objective in itself. It would first be relevant to respond to questions such as whether the type of hybrid that produces the direct and proportional election is adequate for our circumstances, whether a Senate should have a component of proportionality, or whether the present distance between the legislative power and the citizenry contributes to better government. Setting our sights on the numbers implies beginning at the end and obviating the themes at the core: accountability; who nominates -in real life- the candidates; and what is the best way to distribute responsibilities, monies, all of this within a framework of broad legitimacy. None of the proposed reforms advances in this direction.

What is important does not lie in the specifics of the reforms, but rather, in the fact that the rationality that lies behind these is greatly concerned with the short-term political calculations of the relevant actors (calculations that could well include satisfying the critics), and has very little to do with the construction of a better decision-making process, with a fairer and more effective system of government, and above all, in a framework within which the population can develop and enjoy the benefits of their own efforts. None of this appears in the reform proposals.

It is not necessary to regress too far in time to observe the manner in which a reform process set forth in the abstract and without recognition of the day-to-day reality can end in disaster. Many of the economic reforms and privatizations of the 80s and 90s sounded logical and sensible, but the required scaffolding was never constructed: the details for these to be successful. As in the fairy tale Alice in Wonderland, the entire country entered into a process of transformation that, with few exceptions, many extraordinarily positive and important (like NAFTA), did not end well.

As Charles De Gaulle would have said, reforms are too important to be left in the hands of politicians. There are times at which paralysis is not the worst that could be happening.

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In a bitter exchange between a Soviet police commissar and an intellectual described by Elie Wiesel in his play The Madness of God, the commissioner demands his listener to speak up and take a public stance to criticize his brethren on the grounds that “the word was given to man to use it and express himself.” The intellectual took less than a second to respond and said “and he also gave us silence comrade, also silence.” The same holds true in politics.

Few politicians can be associated with silence. Rhetoric, demagoguery and verbiage are much more common among them. Politics is a function and profession devoted to convincing and negotiating and the spoken word is its prime tool. As in everything else, balance is what matters: there are moments when a great speech is what is required, but in others, it is silence that becomes more valuable. Those who talk too much or those who remain silent when they need to take a stand end up becoming irrelevant.

There are politicians who are excessively fond of speaking (and quoting themselves) and believe that this is the way to maximize their impact. Others are more frugal and careful. Some have opinions about a few issues, others have opinions on everything. Some need the podium and the microphone more than they need oxygen and food. In public life, timing, circumstance and nature of the audience, all together, set the framework within which politicians operate. A speech in the Zocalo is not the same thing as a wake, and an intervention at a hearing of the congress is not the same as a state of the union address. Each circumstance requires its own form and content. But in each one can appreciate the difference in style and personality: those who speak profusely, those who remain silent and those who utter just the right words. As politics is full of narcissists, they all think they are unbeatable. But the relevant question here is which are more effective, which achieve a greater impact: which are worthy of respect.

Many believe that words are carried by the wind and therefore have no great value. But in politics words are sublime because they entail trust and bridge-building or distrust and animosity. A timely word can brighten a life and transform a nation while a misguided word expressed at the wrong time can destroy years of effort. Words imply commitment and involve responsibility. Those who abuse words loose all credibility. The success of politicians that history holds dear lies precisely in the value of the words that they uttered. Cicero, Churchill and Roosevelt are three examples of statesmen who turned words into leadership and, to a large extent, the reason for their success. Some of our recent presidents are remembered less for their discourse than for the abuse of it.

The case of former presidents can shed some light. Felipe Gonzalez, a Spanish president endowed with exceptional rhetorical skills and who had the ability to lead a successful political transition, tells that the day he ended his mandate, he decided to make a vow of silence to leave his successor unburdened, free to succeed but and also the freedom to fail. He illustrated his choice with an anecdote: a large Chinese vase placed in a museum can be an extraordinary piece to watch and appreciate, but the same vase placed in the living room of a house is nothing but an obstacle. A former president who talks too much is like a large Chinese vase in the middle of the living room.

Word and silence, the traits and tools of politics, are what make the great heroes of public life. When Don Miguel Mancera, the then director of the central bank in Mexico gave a speech, everyone awaited anxiously because he did not give too many and when he did, he was clear and blunt. Everyone listened. Every word counted, each sentence had a meaning and everything constituted a message that nobody in the financial world could afford to ignore.

Conversely, some of our legislators, governors, mayors and presidents assume that nobody is aware of the number of promises, observations, and accusations, all vain, that they put forth. The abuse of words among some of them is boundless. Unsubstantiated in real life, their statements -and excesses- all end in the gallows of credibility. The impunity they enjoy when they abuse with their rhetoric and speech (when not outright lies) largely explains the very low esteem people have for them. It is perhaps not a coincidence that many of the politicians who take the podium day after day are the same ones who remain silent when they should be speaking. Silences are as unforgivable as incontinence in the praise: both suggest masked complicity.

Although polls put all politicians together and show an almost generalized contempt for them, there are still many cases of exceptional dignity that show well earned respect. Don Luis H. Alvarez has made silence and prudence virtues that far outweigh the speeches of belligerent presidents. Cuauhtémoc Cardenas is meager in his words and generous in his silences. His transit through Mexican politics since he chose to break with the PRI has been incomparably richer and more powerful than that of his verbose peers. Francisco Labastida could have led a large encampment in the Zocalo and Reforma but opted to remain silent and be responsible, and today has become one of the nation’s most respected politicians. When he speaks, the rest listen. Not many senators can say the same thing.

Of course there are many more politicians more committed to demagoguery than to doing their jobs, but those who stand out and those who have reason to feel satisfied are those that make use of words and silence because they understand them as a commitment and as a means to accomplish something relevant, not as an end in itself. When describing Chou Enlai, Kissinger wrote that he exemplified the essential character of a statesman. The use of the word is undoubtedly one of its core components.

In their interchanges with the media, cheap politicians “leak” secrets, gossip and lies to discredit their enemies. Statesmen inform, explain and try to convince. Perhaps one of the reasons why we lack world-class investigative journalism across the spectrum is precisely because we have many more demagogues than likely statesmen.
Words and silence are worthy when they are treasured and when this happens they acquire a higher value, a moral strength that transforms societies and changes the world. Hopefully, one day we will have one or two of those,

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In his famed television program ¿Qué Nos Pasa?, Héctor Suárez showed us up, but he was unable to change the reality. The gist of the program was to place our incongruities on exhibit, above all, our disinclination for problem solving. Our difficulties are known to everyone, they are easy to identify, and it does not require a genius to face up to them.  But the fact is that we do not confront them: we remain stuck along the way without reaching a resolution.

We Mexicans have become accustomed to salvation at the hands of third persons. Decades of PRI governments have made us dependent upon receiving a summons from the authorities. The president was the leader in, owner of, and expert on everything. In an admix of features of the Aztec kingdom’s tlatoani with corporativism, the PRI created an entire culture of subordination, submission, and dependence that has made us incapable of acting on our own.  And we are not overcoming this stage. Everyone criticizes the president for his inability or reluctance to assume the leadership function that traditionally fell to the tlatoani during the six-year term, but the extraordinary thing is that alternative leaders do not emerge who assume the responsibility, replenish the shortfalls, and relieve the wants. In nations like Brazil, the U.S., France or Chile there is no dearth of leaders ready and willing to raise their heads and call for action. Here only those looking for personal gain come out.

How is it possible that in an avowedly modern country, with exceptional aptitudes of leadership in persons, politicians, enterprises, organizations, and institutions, no leadership emerges to afford opportunities for development? The majority of our politicians understand the themes and problems perfectly well, but when they act, they do so self-interestedly or within the space allowed them by their group or corporatist interest. The PRI culture continues to permeate everything: political parties; the media, business: with honorable exceptions, all express themselves in the plural, but are solely concerned with themselves. In the country, there are hundreds of competent leaders who engage in a multiplicity of activities, regions, and sectors, yet no one emerges to smite the paralysis.

The country has been stuck for years, unable to promote and achieve economic growth and the generation of wealth. Rather than advancing the theme on which the whole population is in agreement, including the most reactionary and recalcitrant interests, the only thing that has been achieved is expanding the prerogatives of the bureaucracy and corruption and exacting less and less accountability. Because that, and nothing else, is what is manifested by the energy reform, which conferred still greater privileges on the union or in the case of the government’s capitulation to the teachers’ union. The parties in the government change, but populist obscurantism persists: rather than a clean break with the status quo, everything contributes to entrenching the latter and prolonging its existence. Instead of promoting prosperity, we have perfected the art of paralysis. As a group, practically no politician or party today assumes the essence of its responsibility: that wealth must first be created, not only regulated, curbed, or distributed.

Our problems are not difficult to diagnose, and there is an infinity of proposals for solutions. Although the existence of a problem is acknowledged ‒the rhetoric that emanates from the mouthpiece for the parties, entrepreneurs, union leaders, and intellectuals of all stripes exhibit this‒ what is important is to satisfy the personal or group agenda, not the urgency to transform the country. Everyone appears to take to task what already exists, but there is no connection between the complaints and the proposals for a solution. The political proposals and diagnoses that arise from these are rife with content but sparse on insight. There is no point in proposing a grand strategy for transformation when none of the solutions that are therein visualized or proposed are susceptible to changing the reality for the good.

Above everything else, it is evident that the country lives with fundamental political as well as economic contradictions and dysfunctionalities. No matter the numbers of diagnoses, practically none recognize the guises ‒and veiled interests‒ that prevent proposals from being viable solutions. In the economic as well as in the political arena, there are concrete proposals for confronting the reality, many of these excessively wise and reasonable, but we live a paradox in which their adoption would not resolve the problems. For more than two decades, reforms have been approved that have not achieved breaking the impasse that characterizes us. Something must be wrong.

The country needs many reforms, but lacks the capacity to absorb and process them; thus, it would better not to pretend that a Band-Aid is going to cure a migraine. It is not that many of the proposals entail bad ideas: it is, simply, that the solution cannot vie with the real problem.

The PRI culture that was imposed for many decades bequeathed to us a legacy of mental myths and vices that we appear unable to surmount. In economic matters, the array of obstacles to the generation of wealth is fundamental. This is not corrected, for instance, with additional taxes or better expenditure of monies, although  both might be necessary, but rather with the elimination of obstacles to the installation and operation of commercial undertakings, investment in infrastructure, generation of conditions of true and effective competition, and the breakup of union structures that, as does the teachers’ union, maintain the populace submissive, mired in an educative system that inhibits the individual’s creativity and development. It is not at all worthwhile to remodel fiscal structures, or privatize businesses, or negotiate free trade agreements, all of which are very necessary, if everything is designed to impede the economy from achieving its principal mission: to generate wealth with equal opportunities for all.

The same is true of the political system: it is evident that it is bogged down, but it is also evident that the proposed reforms would not end the power monopolies, the distance between the citizenry and those who govern, or the failure to recognize the winners of an election. To the contrary: given our political reality, many of the proposed reforms would not only uphold the present power structure, but would also discredit the notion of and the urgency for reform anew. The problem of power and the lack of agreement as to how to distribute it, contain it, and be accountable for it must precede any legal reform. These are issues of leadership and political prodding, not of legislation. First things first.

We are all aware that the president has been unable to exercise the leadership that his function commands in our system. However, what is pathetic is that alternative, credible leadership does not arise, which says what is obvious about the country and the political-economic system: that is, as in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, the emperor is wearing no clothes. Mexico does not need first-rate leaders in all spheres, but none appear ready to assume this function outside of their own sphere: it is easier to complain about the incompetence of others, of the worst government, or of how bad things are. It is urgent to break with Orwell’s groupthink, which kills the country little by little…

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