Widening the gulf of Mexico
By Mahir Ali
LAST week’s presidential election in Mexico had for months been touted as a
crucial stage in the phenomenon whereby Latin America has democratically been
drifting leftwards during the past decade. The accuracy of that assessment has
been questioned by those who see Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador as more of a
rhetorical radical than a visionary.
That probably isn’t an entirely unfair evaluation of the Democratic Revolution
Party (PRD) candidate, who was popular as mayor of Mexico City not least because
he, unlike previous holders of the post, spurned many of the privileges that
came with the office. During this year’s election campaign, he had vowed that,
if elected, he would turn the elaborate Los Pinos presidential compound into a
national park.
That seems like an admirable gesture, but gestures can arouse suspicions if they
come across as a substitute for policies. This is not to suggest that Lopez
Obrador’s platform was a policy-free zone. Its mainstay was a huge public works
programme deliberately reminiscent of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, to be
funded by slashing the salaries of bureaucrats and other public office-holders,
including the president.
That, again, sounds good on the face of it. A closer look at the numbers,
however, reveals that the figures don’t add up: the savings from the salary
cuts, even if the latter could be implemented without sparking a bureaucratic
rebellion, would be only a fraction of what would be required to fund the
projects Lopez Oprador evidently had in mind.
He also said he was planning to challenge aspects of the North American Free
Trade Agreement (Nafta), particularly its provisions on agricultural subsidies,
which heavily disadvantage Mexican farmers vis-a-vis their counterparts in the
United States. As Greg Grandin, a professor of history at New York University,
put it last week in a Washington Post article, “Before Nafta, Mexico was
self-sufficient in corn and bean production. Today, one out of three Mexican
tortillas is made with cheap corn meal from the United States.” As a result,
since the introduction of Nafta, the number of Mexicans making their living off
the land has diminished by three million, chiefly because “Mexican farmers
simply can’t compete with capital-intensive US agribusiness, which continues to
enjoy generous government subsidies.” What’s more, Grandin points out, there’s
worse to come: “In 2008, the agreement’s final provision is set to go into
effect, eliminating the last tariffs on US corn and beans and ending the
subsidies Mexico gives to its peasant farmers, leaving untouched the far larger
subsidies doles out to its own agricultural sector.”
These are precisely the sorts of factors that explain why the US-proposed Free
Trade Area of the Americas has encountered so much resistance across Latin
America. Mexico, by virtue of its geographical position, had the dubious
privilege of being incorporated in the so-called free-trade scheme back in 1994,
at a time when it was still ruled by the Institutional Revolutionary Party
(PRI), which had monopolised power since 1929, invariably employing fraudulent
means to stave off rivals after shedding its radical pretensions back in the
1940s.
Even in 1994, it was obvious to some Mexicans that getting into bed with the US
would entail a great deal of unnecessary pain: the Zapatista rebellion in
Chiapas province, which borrowed its name from the early 20th century peasant
revolutionary Emiliano Zapata, coincided with the inauguration of Nafta. The
Zapatistas represented some of the poorest agricultural workers in a country
where 40 per cent of the population lives beneath the poverty line. The
movement’s ski-masked spokesman was an articulate and romantic figure,
Subcomandante Marcos.
On January 1 this year, exactly 12 years after the Chiapas uprising, Marcos,
having chosen to pursue Zapatista goals through purely political means, embarked
on a nationwide tour to promote the movement’s ideas. He evidently reserved much
of his scorn for Lopez Obrador, whom he described as a traitor who would “give
it to all of us” if he won on July 2. On election day last week, he marched down
Mexico City’s Reforma Avenue with thousands of supporters, denouncing all the
political parties.
The extent to which the Zapatistas and other radical left-wing groups might have
determined last week’s result by seeking an electoral boycott is impossible to
pinpoint, of course, but given that Lopez Obrador lost the contest by less than
250,000 votes out of 41 million, it is quite possible that even marginal
influences proved crucial. The candidate — who was, rightly or wrongly,
perceived by the majority of Mexico’s poor as a vehicle for their possible
salvation — hasn’t blamed his defeat on the far left: he believes he was
deprived of victory by the machinations of the ruling National Action Party
(PAN), whose candidate, Felipe Calderon, has provisionally been declared the
president-elect.
In a legal complaint filed with the election commission, Lopez Obrador has
accused the right-wing PAN — which rose to prominence six years ago when its
candidate Vicente Fox, a former Coca-Cola executive, ended the PRI’s monopoly on
executive power — of conduct ranging from the use of state funds in the campaign
(which is illegal under Mexican law) to the manipulation of computerised vote
tallies.
There is certainly some evidence that Lopez Obrador’s accusations aren’t
entirely gratuitous: there are documented cases of substantial numbers of votes
being voided or remaining uncounted in certain polling stations.
Observers from the European Union gave the election a tick of approval, but such
overseers generally tend to discount relatively minor instances of possible
misconduct. However, in instances where the result is so tight — Calderon and
Lopez Obrador are separated by 0.6 per cent of the vote — every ballot counts.
Therefore the latter’s demand for a thorough manual recount isn’t unreasonable.
However, under Mexican law, this is apparently illegal: ballots from only a
limited number of polling stations can be subjected to manual scrutiny. It
remains to be seen how seriously the election commission will take Lopez
Obrador’s complaint, even though large numbers of Mexicans — his protest rally
in Mexico City last Saturday attracted 100,000, many of whom were less than
thrilled when the candidate insisted on peaceful conduct — are clearly
disappointed by the electoral outcome.
Of course, large-scale disappointment isn’t unusual in the wake of closely
contested elections. However, charges of electoral fraud have a particular
resonance in Mexico, given its long history of political corruption. And while
it remains to be conclusively determined whether the PAN is following the PRI’s
pattern, there can be little question that a misleading scare campaign lay at
the heart of its election propaganda.
Lopez Obrador was comfortably ahead of Calderon in opinion polls until the PAN
sought to insinuate that the PRD leader was a Hugo Chavez clone. The business
community — wary of any party that pledges to work “for the good of all, but
first the poor” — quickly jumped on the bandwagon with its own television ads
warning implicitly of the dangers that would lie ahead with a Chavez-like leader
at the helm. Some of the PAN’s TV spots juxtaposed Chavez’s (fairly accurate)
denunciations of Fox as a US lackey with comparable quotes from Lopez Obrador.
The background to this line of attack consists, of course, of an international
anti-Chavez campaign that seeks to paint the Venezuelan president as a
borderline lunatic with an authoritarian streak who is bent upon defying the
ways of the world. That characterisation is partly valid: Chavez is indeed
determined to contribute towards a different world, primarily because the one we
are confronted with leaves a great deal to be desired in terms of disparities of
wealth and power. He questions and defies Washington’s imperialist tendencies at
every opportunity.
What’s more, much to the despair of the comprador bourgeoisie in Venezuela, his
domestic policies have begun to make an appreciable difference to the lives of
the poor, large numbers of whom have gained access for the first time to
education and health care.
He supplies oil to Cuba in exchange for doctors, and sells the precious
commodity at concessional rates to Caribbean nations, as well as to impoverished
sections of the population within the US.
Although it is unlikely Lopez Obrador would have made a particularly radical
president, it is nonetheless intriguing to note that the US was seemingly
remarkably complacent about the prospect, apart from pointing out that Nafta
provisions on subsidies were non-negotiable. One is reminded of the famous
instance from the Sherlock Holmes story Silver Blaze, in which the detective
alerts his companion to “the curious incident of the dog in the night-time”.
When Dr Watson points out that the dog did nothing in the night-time, the
detective responds: “That was the curious incident.”
There are two possible explanations for Washington’s complacency: either it had
some sort of an assurance that Lopez Obrador’s radical rhetoric would not
translate into seriously reformist policies, or it knew his electoral bid would
be unsuccessful. Take your pick.
Email: mahirali1@gmail.com
