Prosperity?

September 14, 2025

Luis Rubio

Mexico has never been an archetype of constitutional solidity. Our first constitution laid out an ideal to be achieved rather than a reflection of the sociopolitical realities that would later characterize the negotiations of the 1917 constituent assembly. Yet the realities of power determined that the constitution would be more of a point of reference than an institutional structure to which everyone would have to adhere. During the PRI era, the constitution was reformed numerous times, always preserving a certain sense of formality. Nowadays, constitutional amendments have become a mere formality, as if they were simply a circular sent out by the ruling party to the citizenry. I wonder if it will be possible to make progress under these circumstances.

A recent American game titled “The Future of American Democracy” asks participants—presumed voters—to choose one of the following options: The first would be to vote for a Democratic candidate committed to reversing President Trump’s initiatives. Given the de facto expansion of executive powers achieved by Trump, the new president would use them to reinstate dismissed officials, rebuild damaged institutions, and through executive orders correct the excesses that characterized the outgoing administration. The second option would be to vote for a Republican candidate from Trump’s hardline MAGA faction, dedicated to advancing his predecessor’s agenda on trade, immigration, and cultural matters. But instead of enjoying the enormous de facto powers that Trump wielded, his successor would face an aggressive Supreme Court dedicated to enforcing constitutional checks and balances and the separation of powers. A similar situation would arise with Congress, which would recover its budgetary and legislative functions.

“Who would you vote for?” asks the moderator.

The descriptions, summarized here, are designed to make one option—the reversal of Trump’s agenda—appear attractive, while disparaging the second, which would mean choosing a MAGA candidate. However, the purpose of the game is to force participants to evaluate and appreciate the importance of institutions and the risk posed by a single individual—a president—who disregards, ignores, or challenges them. In short, the aim is to conclude that rules matter more than rulers. While in this game the prototype Democratic candidate described here would preserve the formal and informal powers that characterized Trump, potentially violating citizens’ rights, the Republican prototype would be constrained by constitutional checks and balances, forcing him to respect institutions and citizens’ rights.

The institutional strength of our northern neighbors stems from their 1787 constitutional arrangement, a pact very different in nature from the one that has characterized our own constitutional structure and, more broadly, much of the world’s. In the decade between that country’s independence and the adoption of its constitution, its principal architects dedicated themselves to designing an innovative structure for a nation that, for the first time, would be born under the name of democratic republic. To do so, they studied (and published in The Federalist Papers) the rise and fall of Rome, Montesquieu’s principles of separation of powers, and the social contract theorists such as Rousseau, Hobbes, and above all Locke. The text ultimately approved was built on a central premise, in Madison’s words: “If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.” Madison’s point was that enlightened rulers are rare, which is why rules are needed that allow for effective but limited governance, providing citizens with certainty.

All of this brings us to Mexico’s current situation. At present, the constitution has been shattered, and its function as a source of certainty and predictability has disappeared. By this I do not mean to suggest that what existed before was ideal in these terms, or that now, suddenly, everything has changed. But no one can reasonably claim that the disappearance of an independent judiciary (however ineffective it may have been) constitutes an improvement, or that the way the constitution is reformed today—literally within hours—can be a source of clarity or certainty. And the electoral reform proposal circulating in Morena circles only serves to complete an already deeply troubling picture.

The paradox is that the president continues to insist on the Mexico Plan as a mechanism for generating economic growth. There are two obstacles preventing it from taking off. The first is that the Plan itself grants excessive powers to the government to direct investment—a circumstance that clashes with the way businesspeople make investment decisions. The other is that the regulatory, legal, and political context constitutes a huge disincentive not only to investment but to progress itself. No one should be surprised at the stagnation which the country now finds itself.