An aversion to competition and a lack of respect for the law prevent the country from reaching its full potential.
Which country holds the record for the tallest artificial
Christmas tree? Mexico. The biggest taco? Mexico. The greatest number of people
kissing each other for the longest period of time? The most people dancing
together to Michael Jackson's "Thriller"? Mexico and Mexico.
You could view this obsession with getting into the
Guinness book of world records as a charming national idiosyncrasy. But there
is also a more disturbing explanation. As a people, Mexicans shun genuine
competition. Claiming Guinness records is a way of winning something without
actually having to compete one-on-one. No one really loses because no other
country is actually out there trying to cook the world's largest tamale.
The anti-competition trait pops up in other ways that are
far less benign than simply trying to get into the record books. Consider what
happened last month in Michoacan, one of the country's most beautiful and
historic states, and a place that has seen skyrocketing levels of violence in
the wake of President Felipe Calderon's ill-fated war on drugs. Leaders there
floated what they billed as an innovative idea. Instead of a robust competition
for votes among the three main political parties in the upcoming governor's
race, they proposed having the parties agree on a single candidate, thus
avoiding polarization and opportunities for the drug cartels to try to corrupt
the process.
The idea, fortunately, was quickly abandoned. As many
observers noted, Mexican society had not fought for free and fair elections —
after decades of near-total control by the Institutional Revolutionary Party,
or PRI — only to return to a one-party election in 2011 because of isolated,
though substantial, levels of crime.
But the idea illustrates a disturbing truth: Mexicans are
far too comfortable choosing the route that avoids conflict, even when it
results in appeasing forces that shouldn't be appeased. Take, for example, a
poll conducted in late May, which showed that half of all Mexicans believe
Calderon should cut a deal with the drug gangs instead of persevering in his
war. One can disagree with the way that the unwinnable and excessively costly
war on drugs is being fought, but it's nevertheless worrying that half the
country believes an alliance between the government and criminals would be
preferable.
A willingness to make deals with criminals attests to
another deeply ingrained Mexican trait that I deal with in my new book,
"Mañana Forever? Mexico and the Mexicans": an extreme disregard and
lack of respect for the law. A recent poll carried out by Banamex and Fundación
Este País asked respondents whether they thought citizens of Mexico respected
its laws. About 49% said rarely or never, and only 6% replied always. The rule
of law does not really exist in Mexico today, in big and small matters alike.
A nation is forged by circumstances and certain traits of
a national character. Mexico is no exception, and these traits in Mexicans are
understandable, given a past in which conflict was almost always unequal and
led to defeat and misery; a past in which the law was always an object of
negotiation, never of compliance. In Mexico, a common history was one of the
few things binding groups of mestizos, Europeans, indigenous peoples and
Africans with little else to share.
Today, Mexico has a middle class encompassing nearly 60%
of the population; it has a functioning representative democracy; it enjoys the
benefits and vicissitudes of an open economy; and it has become one of the
world's most globalized countries. One out of every nine Mexicans lives abroad
(a higher proportion than any other nation except El Salvador and Ecuador),
foreign trade represents well over half of its gross domestic product, tourism
is its largest employer and more civilian Americans reside in Mexico than any
other foreign country.
This is a tremendous success story, despite the prolonged
time it took to accomplish it. But the nation's future is dependent on shedding
traits that are holding it back. To become a true 21st century nation will
require every bit of competition Mexicans can muster, and finally establishing
a type of rule of law that guarantees its citizens security and foreigners
their property rights and due process.
But is this possible? Can a nation transform its
cultural, psychological and spiritual reality in a generation?
One reason for hope can be seen by looking at Mexicans
who recently immigrated, legally or illegally, to the United States. Once
there, either they adapt to a new economic, social, political and legal
environment, or their enormous effort and sacrifice go to naught. And they do
adapt: Men save more, children stay in school all day and women attain a degree
of independence, self-esteem and achievement that becomes an example for
friends and family back home. This conclusion is unlikely to win me many fans
in Mexico or in the United States, but Mexico has much to learn from those who
have left it. They demonstrate categorically that we can change. And change is
exactly what we have to do.
**Jorge Castañeda, a professor at New York University and
former foreign minister of Mexico, is the author, most recently, of
"Mañana Forever? Mexico and the Mexicans."