Mexican History 1824-1910 « The Mex Files

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¡Oy, carrumba! Venta Prieta

18 November 2009 · Leave a Comment

While there has been a small movement among the “crypto-Jews” — the descendants of the conversos who made up a large portion of the early Spanish emigration to the New World — to “reconvert” to the religion of their ancestors, but whose ethnic background is as mixed as anyone else’s in this country, we tend to think of Mexican judaism as a totally European phenonoma, not, as with Roman Catholicism, a belief system that could be incorporated into indigenous culture.

Haim F. Gazuli, writing on Beth Hatefutsoth – the website of the Nahum Goldman Museum of the Jewish Diaspora (Tel Aviv, Israel) — writes:

It is widely assumed that small groups of descendants of crypto-Jews who fled the persecutions of the Spanish Inquisition during colonial times and sought refuge in remote regions of Mexico, where they lived among the native people of the country continued for many generations to keep alive in secret, the remembrance of their Jewish origins. Living and intermarrying with local population brought about their full assimilation, and only rarely a few old Jewish practices and beliefs persisted while their significance was totally forgotten.

…

Sometime during the 1850’s some native Mexicans who believed they were descendants of crypto-Jews decided to return to Judaism. Prominent among them was Ramón Jiron of the town of Morelia in the State of Michoacan. According to oral traditions he died at the hands of his neighbors after it was discovered that he abandoned Catholicism. According to other version he run away from home after refusing to submit to his father’s wish and become a Catholic priest. To escape the persecutions he, or only his widow along with their children and a young man called Manuel Tellez, fled to the town of Real de Oro, and then to the nearby Pachuca, in the State of Hidalgo. Eventually the group and their descendants founded Venta Prieta, then a small agricultural settlement in the outskirts of Pachuca.

Although following the liberal Constitution of 1857, the freedom of religion was introduced in Mexico, the native Mexican Jews of Venta Prieta as well as in other parts of the country, did not make public their beliefs and practices. Francisco Rivas Puigcerver, himself of crypto-Jewish origins, came to the defense of the native Mexicans Jews already in 1889 in a series of articles he published in his periodicals. After 1917, following the promulgation of a new, more anticlerical Constitution, the mantle of secrecy that covered many native Mexican Jews started to loosen as they began establishing organized communities as well as entering a gradual process of learning and return to mainstream Judaism. Francisco Rivas was instrumental in coordinating an umbrella organization for some 3,000 native Mexican Jews who lived mainly in Venta Prieta, in the State of Hidalgo, in Mexico City, and in other localities. The Kahal Kadosh Bnei Elohim community was established in Venta Prieta in 1920.

First reports containing details of the ritual practiced by “Indian Jews” may be found in Francisco Rivas’ periodicals. In his El Sabado secreto he wrote about Indians living in isolated villages who married among themselves only, prayed to God calling him by his old Hebrew name and observed the Shabbat. During their religious ceremonies the prayers were first recited in Hebrew from a sefer and then translated into Spanish.

Not so much hostile to the outside world as self-effacing, the community was visited in the late 1930s by photographer Ida Cowen (I’m trying to get the museum to scan a few photos) and was served by U.S. immigrant rabbi for several years. Rabbi Lerner retired in 1999, and the community has split into two congregations, one Orthodox and one Conservative. Leslie Tellez, who wrote a short article on the community for Mexico Insider in April 2009 had trouble finding people who even would admit the synagogues existed, let alone that they had congregations. Elizabeth Téllez, president of the Comunidad Mexicana Israelita el Neguev Venta Prieta, explained to Leslie Tellez (no relation, as far as I know) the self-imposed obscurity of this Mexican community:

“A lot of people have taken advantage of the community, when in reality they don’t know us,”Téllez said, adding that she’s heard stories of people not affiliated with the temple trying to raise money for Venta Prieta. “We don’t need any promotion. Mexico and Israel, they accept us.”

Téllez said that a rabbi traveled from Mexico City to lead their services each Friday and Saturday and that a few Venta Prieta families had moved to Israel. Other facts she would allow to appear in print: The temple, a stone structure with a Star of David etched into the window, was their third. Families paid for it and the recreation hall with their own money. About 150 Jewish people lived in Venta Prieta, Téllez said.

She showed me a black-and-white photo of the congregation, dated 1938, before politely ending the conversation.

“This is how we’ve always lived,” she said, “and this is how we’re always going to live.”

Categories: Benito Juarez · Hidalgo (State of) · Indigenous People(s) · Israel · Jews · La Raza (Mexican cultures and peoples) · Mexican History 1575-1810 (Colonial Era) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Mexican History 1921+ · Provincia · Religion

¡Soy Capitán!

8 October 2009 · 1 Comment

“Opposition research” – reading some of the right wing websites from the U.S. — is normally an exercise in wasting my time with fools, but every once in a while it pays off. With October being “Hispanic Heritage Month” in most U.S. school districts (which seems to account for the sudden jump in hits on this site lately… kids doing their homework, something that is definitely NOT a waste of time), the righties have picked up on an idea first floated by Texas “educational consultant” Reverend Peter Marshall. Marshall is the yin-yang who wants to cut Cesar Chavéz from Texas school books in favor of some guy who built the first yo-yo in America.

This particular right-wing waste of time website was pushing schools to teach about some minor figure of the Confederacy, whose “Hispanic” credentials are, at the very least, dubious. The proposal — which appeared in a Canadian right wing website — figures that since the guy’s grandfather was a Sephardic Jew (and by family tradition had left Spain in the 1490s for Holland), he was “Hispanic.” This is the same line of misreasoning was recently used by Karl Rove when he attempted to downplay the historical importance of Justice Sonya Sotomayor’s nomination to the Supreme Court, referring to Benjamin Cardozo (with a Portuguese surname and distant Iberian-Sephardic ancestry) as “Hispanic”… to the bemusement of Hispanics, and the annoyance of Portuguese-surnamed Americans.

I couldn’t find this particular Confederate on a handy-dandy list of “Hispanics in Gray and Blue” produced by the Education Committee of the Sons of Confederate Veterans. The site, lists a couple of Union officers as well, including Admiral David G. Farragut, on the strength of his having been a Southerner.

A little more linking and cross-linking and I found an amazing Mexican connection. Farragut, who is an important figure in U.S. Naval history, was not only Hispanic, so was his dad… a Spanish sea captain who joined the revolutionary Navy (i.e., he was a privateer… a pirate with a cause) and fathered the future U.S. Admiral (in Tennessee, making him a southerner, though David went to sea at the age of 12). And — AHA!– the Mexican connection. When Jorge Farragut died in 1817, David was adopted by another American Naval officer, David Porter.

Porter would become the first Commander-in-Chief of the Mexican Navy, though a path only slightly less convoluted than my discovering the connection with David Farragut.

Born in Illinois according to Wikipedia (or in Boston, according to a short biography published by Centro de Estudios Superiores Navales de la Armada de México), Porter had a checkered career before coming to Mexico. After action against the French (during a not so cold naval war in 1799), Porter managed to crash into the shores of Tripoli — running aground in 1803 and held prisoner by the Barbary Pirates for the next two years — on his way to the Halls of Montezuma.

During the War of 1812, he managed to capture several British ships off New Orleans, and again get taken prisoner, once more far from home. Off Valparaiso Chile (those sea captains got around, he was captured by the British (along with future step-son David Farragut). Porter had been wounded, and it was a rough sea battle, so no shame was involved in being taken prisoner, but he was put on desk duty for the next few years, got bored with that, and finanged sea duty in the Caribbean, hunting for pirates.

Somewhat over-enthusiastic about his task, Porter invaded Fajado, Puerto Rico (where the U.S. “liberators” would land in 1898), annoying not just the Spanish colonial officials (to say nothing of the Puerto Ricans), but the United States Department of State and the Navy. In 1826 he was court-martialed and… rather than wait to be drummed out or keel-hauled, resigned his commission, and prevailed upon his friend Joel Roberts Poinsett, to help him find a job. Which Poinsett did: as Commander of the new Mexican Navy.

At the time, Spain still had hopes of regaining Mexico, and without a decent navy, was continually under attack. Porter may have screwed up a few times, but as a Mexican Admiral, he is highly praised for pulling together an ad hoc collection of ships, foreign captains, Mexican fishermen and assorted quasi-pirates into an effective defensive force.

Source: Secretaría de Marina

In 1828, when the Spanish again tried to invade Mexico, Porter went on the offensive, attacking Spanish ships in Cuban waters… and again came to grief. Taking refuge in Florida put Mexico into the middle of a U.S.-Spanish diplomatic problem… just as anti-foreigner violence had broken out in the Capital and there were demands for removing foreigners from their perceived control of the economic and political affairs of the nation. Porter claimed there were two assassination attempts, and returned to the United States in 1829.

Not quite sure what to do with Porter… and certainly not about to put him back in the Navy, the United States government finally found a job for him in the Diplomatic Corps, packing him off to Constantinople, where he remained as Minister to the Ottoman Empire until his death in 1843.

When he first left for Mexico, he was accompanied by his then 13-year old son, David Dixon Porter, who would learn his trade as a Mexican cadet. David Dixon Porter would be the U.S. Navy’s first Rear-Admiral. Another son would also become a naval officer. Besides spawning a second generation of U.S. naval commanders (and being the step father to another), Porter’s short time in Mexico did instill discipline and traditions still part of the Mexican Navy today.

ARM Cuautémoc

ARM Manuel Azueta

Categories: David Porter · Mexican History 1810-1824 (Independence) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Navy
Tagged: Mexico 2010

They fly through the air, with the greatest of ease

1 October 2009 · Leave a Comment

The traditional Totonac Voladores ritual has been recognized by the United Nation Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as a “Intangible Cultural Heritage”. The Totanaca were the first people in Mexico to fall under Spanish rule… and the last to stage a mass uprising against foreigners in north America.

Veracriz was the first European city on the mainland, and — given the Totonac propensity for both good living and resistance — has had a dual reputation as THE party town of the Americas and as the “Thrice Heroic” city for withstanding attacks by the French in 1828, the United States in 1846 and the United States (again) in 1914. Not to mention various pirates and adventurers like the comically inept Austrian admiral, Maximilan von Hapsburg, misdirected his landing craft and came ashore in a cemetery in the French occupied city on 28 May 1864. Locals hid behind closed doors and snickered.

The City of Veracruz, of course, has long subsumed the Totanac culture, but it has survived, mostly in rural parts of the state and in the State of Mexico. In what was, until the 20th century, the relatively isolated community of Papantla, the last major “Indian massacre” in North America was 1920, late in the Mexican Revolution, when what was basically an indigenous protest against exploitation of natural resources by foreign multinationals (oil, in this case) turned to ethnic cleansing, with the “whites” being run out of town, or killed.

This was unusual, the Totonacs being noted for their tolerance, and Papantla certainly welcomes outsiders today (just don’t rip them off). It’s a small city, best known for vanilla production and Voladores. Given a Christian overlay — as so many survivors of indigenous ritual were — the better known ceremony is said to honor the Virgin Mary, and, in Papantla, the Volodores use a permanent platform located in the church yard. The near-by El Tajín ruins — which predate the Totanac culture — also have a permanent platform and are probably the best place to see the amazing “flying men” of Mexico.

But, as in this video distributed by UNESCO, there is more to the ritual, and more than an extra-large prayer wheel involved.

In rural areas (both in Veracruz, and over the state line in the State of Mexico),

Categories: Emperor Maximiliano · Hernan Cortés · Indigenous People(s) · Mexican History -1524 (Pre-Conquest) · Mexican History 1524-1575 (Spanish Conquest) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Mexican History 1910-20 (Revolution) · Mexico (Estado de) · Pre-Columbian Religion · Provincia · Religion · Totonaca · Tourism · Veracruz

Obama ≈ Chavez ?

17 September 2009 · 3 Comments

An overwhelming portion of the intensely demonstrated animosity toward President Barack Obama is based on the fact that he is a black man…

Former United States President James Earl Carter

During his own tenure as President of the United States (and after) Jimmy Carter – who, having grown up in the segregated south, and having served as one of the first post-segregation southern leaders, knows racism when he sees it — was, like Barack Obama now, also tarred with being a socialist by the far right (and the merely uninformed).

Living in a country where two of the three main parties (PRI and PRD) explicitly define themselves as “socialist” and where another national party (Convergencia) calls itself “Social Democratic” (as did the Social Democratic party, which has lost its national registration, being somewhat redundant) and another — PT — claims to be Maoist, this seems to be a lame insult for the 21st century, but then, the United States has a different political vocabulary than the rest of the planet.

Socialism, for whatever reason, is anathema in the United States and politicians go out of their way to deny that any proposal of theirs is at all influenced by Socialist thinking. When Carter was attacked (and he was despised by many for all kinds of reasons) he was usually slurred as a “European Socialist” — presumably meaning his proposals might do for France or Italy or Sweden, but not for the U.S. of A.

But when Barack Obama is called a “socialist”, he’s not being compared to some French or Italian leader, but to Hugo Chavez. There’s a reason, one that bolsters Carter’s observation.

Nicholas Kozloff, writing on “The Politics of Race” in Venezuela back in 2005, said:

Unlike the United States, Venezuela has not experienced poisonous anti black racism. But the idea of racial democracy does not stand up under scrutiny: the caste like divisions of the colonial period are still latent in society. “Venezuelan elites,” one scholar has remarked, “judged people by their appearances. Accordingly, individuals with ‘anxious hair’ or ‘hair like springs’ lived in the shadow of their black slave ancestors. The elites considered respectable the whiter Venezuelans who had ‘hair flat as rainwater, of an indefinite light brown color which is neither fair nor dark.’” Though some blacks were able to enter white society through marriage and miscegenation, “in the long run, such individuals provided the exceptions that proved the rule.” Blacks who sought social acceptance had to adopt the clothing, education, and language of the white elite. In present day Venezuelan society, notes respected commentator Gregory Wilpert, “The correspondence between skin color and class membershipis quite stunning at times. To confirm this observation, all one has to do is compare middle to upper class neighborhoods, where predominantly lighter colored folks live, with the barrios, which are clearly predominantly inhabited by darker skinned Venezuelans.” Meanwhile, journalist Greg Palast noted that rich whites had “command of the oil wealth, the best jobs, the English-language lessons, the imported clothes, the vacations in Miami, the plantations.”

Hugo Chavez,who does not “adopt the … language of the white elite”, as does Obama, does have something in common with the U.S. President however:

Physically, Hugo Chávez is a pardo, a term used in the colonial period to denote someone of mixed racial roots. “Chávez’s features,” writes a magazine columnist, “are a dark-copper color and as thick as clay; he has protruding, sensuous lips and deep-set eyes under a heavy brow. His hair is black and kinky. He is a burly man of medium height, with a long, hatchet-shaped nose and a massive chin and jaw.” In an interview, Chávez remarked that when he first applied to the military academy he had an Afro.

I agree that Venezuela (and most of Latin America) has not had the anxiety over “race” that was experienced in the United States, but, when it comes to political tactics, the overt displays of racism are cross-cultural:

The photoshopped images I took from political opposition websites, where one might expect the ethics of journalism are not applicable, but the two political cartoons appeared in “respectable” daily newspapers in Caracas (left) and New York (right).

Confusingly enough, the same political groups that claim their nation’s elected leaders are socialist and compare their black(ish) Presidents to monkeys will also try to compare them to Herr Master Race himself. That confuses me, but in both Venezuela and the United States, there is a sense that the traditionally controlling “race” deserves to remain in control… as it was then, so it shall be, forever and ever, Amen.

That attitude doesn’t depend on being the majority (as “whites” supposedly still are in the United States). In Venezuela, the majority is non-white, as it is in Bolivia, where very real fascists accuse the indigenous president of fomenting “race war” and also resort to comparing him to a monkey. But, Evo Morales for some reason, isn’t seen as a threat by the right in the United States… could it be there aren’t many Indians in the U.S., but a lot of blacks?

“Digby”, a U.S. political blogger, writing about a connected issue 8the attempts by the right to deny they are racists) notes:

… these people are a perfect example of the modern racists. They don’t go around calling black people “boy” (to their faces) and they certainly don’t think of themselves as bigots. But in their minds, racial minorities [or, in Bolivia, majorities] are dangerous barbarians who are threatening to destroy their way of life.

This being a Mexican site, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that anti-black attitudes exist here, too. Alex Okeoko writes a well-balanced article for Time about Afro-Mexicans and mentions both that persons identifiably Afro-Mexicans only number about a million people, whose discrimination is based more on social class than color. And that country has had Afro-Mexican leaders.

Okeoko mentions historical leads like Vicente Guerrero, but ovelooks contemporary ones like former Quintano Roo Governor, Joaquin Hendricks Diaz. Racism, as such, is not the same as it is in the United States and the irrational fears raised by the “other” have different causes.

As to “white privilege” in this country, I have to go back to the 19th century to find overt evidence of it. The Emperor Maxmiliano, called Juan Altamonte, he Regent who ran the occupation government until Max could get to Mexico, “that nigger”. And Maximiliano was never a Mexican, just a wannabe.

Carlos Fuente’s “The Days of Laura Diaz”, concerns itself with the social changes among the Mexican upper class after the Revolution. Laura doesn’t so much marry down under Pre-Revolutionary thinking because she marries an Afro-Mexican, but when she marries a poor man for whom “the revolution has done justice” … in other words, a political hack, not a member of Laura’s own haciendado class.

Categories: Americas (outside U.S. and Mexico) · Barack Obama · Bolivia · Carlos Fuentes · Crack-pots · Emperor Maximiliano · Evil-doers · Evo Morales · Gringo(landia) · Hugo Chavez · Human Rights · La Raza (Mexican cultures and peoples) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Mexican writers · Neo-nazis · Venezuela

13 September 1847

13 September 2009 · 1 Comment

13 September 1847 saw not just the fall of Mexico City to the U.S. invasion, but also the execution of 30 San Patricio’s, at Mixcoac and in San Angel (Plaza San Jacinto, where a plaque marks the spot today). The executions in San Angel took place as the United States flag was raised over Chapultepec Castle.

Considered traitors and deserters by the United States (which they were), the San Patricios’ included not only Irish immigrants, but Germans, Hungarians, native-born whites and self-liberated slaves who had been with the U.S. invasion forces. The Irish, of course, were mostly recent immigrants to the United States, fleeing land grabbing English-speaking Protestants, only to find themselves fighting on behalf of the same kinds of people. Rampant anti-Catholicism in the Army (and in the United States generally) also played a role. There were only two Roman Catholic chaplains with the occupation (and one died before reaching Mexico), both volunteers whose expenses were not paid by Congress or the War Department, but under the table by President Polk (who hid the transaction in the White House entertainment budget).

This is sort of the forgotten war of the United States — go into any U.S. bookstore and the war section skips from the War of 1812 to the Civil War — and, if thought of at all, is thought of in terms of being a prelude to the devastating Civil War. As Ulysses S. Grant would write:

The Southern rebellion was largely the outgrowth of the Mexican war. Nations, like individuals, are punished for their transgressions. We got our punishment in the most sanguinary and expensive war of modern times.

Anti-immigrant sentiment, religious bigotry, a war policy based on financial calculations… it’s not a new thing. That these soldiers had to take such a huge risk (and paid such a horrible price) to preserve their own integrity makes them — in Mexico and in Ireland — heroes today.

In the notes to the video, singer David Rovics writes:

Dubious about why they were fighting a Catholic country and fed up with mistreatment by their Anglo-Protestant officers, hundreds of Irish, German and other immigrants deserted Taylor’s army and joined forces with Mexico.

Led by Capt. John Riley of Co. Galway, they called themselves the St. Patrick’s Battalion (in Spanish, the San Patricios) and fought against their former comrades in all the major campaigns of the war.

The history of the San Patricios is a woeful tale of angry, bewildered, naive, or calculating young men, from varied backgrounds, who deserted for a myriad of reasons and paid a fearful price.

The San Patricios, in the words of one Mexican general, “deserved the highest praise, because they fought with daring bravery.” But eventually, Mexico surrendered, ceding almost half its territory to the United States.

Each San Patricio who deserted from the US side was interned after the war in Mexico and subsequently given an individual court-martial trial. Many of the Irish were set free, but some paid the ultimate price. Roughly half of the San Patricio defectors who were executed by the US for desertion were Irish.

A grande sweep of the sombrero to Mary O’Grady (now there’s a good Mexican name!) for passing this along:

Categories: Border Issues · Bosques de Chapultepec · Ciudad de México · Gringo(landia) · La Raza (Mexican cultures and peoples) · Mexican Army · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Mexican-American War · Plaza San Jacinto · San Patricios · Ulysses S Grant

Remember the Alamo? Some of us DO!

13 September 2009 · 5 Comments

This is the second (and I hope) last time I comment on the — until recently unknown to me — gloriously moronic Glenn Beck. That whiny adolescent voice (neither authoritative nor ominous enough for a good propagandist) is Beck reading some polemic by some woman in support of some march that I guess came off in Washington, DC Saturday.

The video, and whatever their cause is (damned if I can tell, though you notice the only non-white people in the whole video are the President, who I guess these folks are mad at, and a Presidential aide) would be completely irrelevant to The Mex Files, if it wasn’t for this slide, at 1:13 of the 1:36 video:

alamo

Uh… the Battle of the Alamo was between illegal aliens in Mexico and the Mexican Army. Seeing they thought they were fighting for a separate republic (which did exist for a couple of years after this 1836 battle), I suppose the makers of this video might be trying to drum up support for Texas separatists (only about 173 years late), or… maybe they’re saying something about the advisability of Mexicans killing English-speaking white guys in the name of black liberation.

I DO remember the Alamo. The surviving defenders were shot after three men were released. Brigado Guerrero, an AWOL Mexican soldier had been trapped in the fort. Joe was taken with arms in hand, and slightly wounded before an officer order his men to cease and desist. Joe was personally interrogated by General Santa Ana. Joe had not known that his enslavement by insurgent leader William Travis was illegal in Mexican territory, and he was released. As was Sam, a non-combatant, had been brought into Texas by Jim Bowie and “freed” by Bowie during the siege.

I guess what Beck’s group is trying to say is that restoring the rights of two black people justified the slaughter of somewhere between 182 and 257 of those denying them their rights, and the 450 or more who died to free them from bondage.

The protest in question took up about half the Washington Mall, the other half being filled with picnickers celebrating “National Black Families Reunion”. I hope none of Sam and Joe’s descendents were there, or at least that those descendants don’t draw the same conclusions I do about this silly event.

Categories: Alamo Battle · Crack-pots · Gringo(landia) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Texas

Emiliano Zapata, Prince Albert of Monaco and the gay caballero

12 September 2009 · 4 Comments

Bicen-cen-1

Fact checking can lead down some strange paths. Editorial Mazatlan is working (overtime) to get a book ready for press: The Mexican Revolution: Day by Day (more on that later), Ramon Acosta’s exquisitely detailed chronology of the 1910-20 Revolution (with major events before and after those dates) , an amazing work of scholarship, and an invaluable tool for researchers and historians.

Ray’s research is solid, but that doesn’t mean we stint on fact-checking … even for relatively minor matters, like the full name — apallido paterno and apallido materno — of a minor figure like Ignacio de la Torre (de la Torre y Mier, as it turns out). But, as with most research, it is the journey, not the goal, that is the reward.

De la Torre y Mier is a troublesome figure, one that pops up in the unlikeliest of places, and deserving to be considered more than I did, as two footnotes in Gods, Gachupines and Gringos.

Malcolm Forbes once wrote that the surest way to become very rich is be born rich. Ignacio de la Torre y Mier was born — in 1866 in Mexico City (during Maximiliano’s reign — very rich. His father was the Mexican partner to the notorious Monsieur Jecker, the Swiss banker who — with his other partner, Napoleon III’s half-brother, the Duque de Morney — held the loans that bankrupted Mexico and provided France with a plausible excuse to invade, and then occupy, the country. Ignacio was heir presumptive not just to the banking fortune, but to ten haciendas. With sugar production from Cuba falling after 1880 due to guerrilla wars on the island, de la Torres’ land in Morelos would make him even richer. And even more pretentious.

In short, the perfect villain for a revolution. A dime a dozen…

But, Ignacio is the villain who made Emiliano Zapata a leader, in part began the movement for gay and lesbian rights in Latin America. Not to mention doing his bit for the future of Monaco.

albert_monaco220 Although the Mexican Empire would not last, young Don Ignacio who –as eldest son — was head of the De la Torre family following his father’s death. I don’t have the exact date for Isadoro de la Torre y Gil’s death, but by the 1880s, he was head of a family which still had its royalist pretentions. He apparently was a competent businessman, using his social connections to build up the family sugar fortune and shopping for dynastic connections. Sucessfully, he married off his sister Susanna to Count Maxence Melchior de Polignac. Maxence and Susanna’s son, Prince Pierre would marry the illegitimate (and later adopted) only child of Prince Louis II of Monaco. The throne of the mini-state could not pass to a female child, so Prince Pierre (who was somehow related, as all European royals are) became the consort-apparent. Both Prince and Princess were rather shady characters (the Princess eventually ran off with an Italian jewel thief) but they did have a couple of children, the eldest son being Prince Rainer III. Rainer rescued the magic principality’s reputation as an sunny place for shady people, married Grace Kelly and spawned a new generation of royal gossip-fodder, including the reining prince, Albert.

While the rich have always been different than you and I, and it’s good to be king (or at least reining prince), Albert owes a small debt to his great-great uncle Ignacio. No one today would presume to force a gay man like Prince Albert to marry, as Ignacio was. And did.

“Gay” and “straight” and “bisexual” weren’t part of 19th century vocabulary, nor has occasional same-sex activity been particularly viewed as all that unusual in Mexico, so Don Porfirio may not have realized how much misery he was inflicting on his favorite daughter, Amada Díaz Ortega, when she and Ignacio married in 1888. Mexican historian Sara Sefchovitch (La Suerte de la Consorte, Oceana, 2002) writes that father and daughter were deeply hurt when Ignacio proceeded to “scandalize society with his licentious habits.”

Amada was obviously not going to present Porfirio with any grandchildren to dote upon, and he turned more and more to his nephew, Felíx, the son of his long dead brother who had been lynched after desecrating a church back in Oaxaca. Felíx — among other favors bestowed on him by his uncle — was Mexico City’s police chief in 1901, when on November 20 of that year police arrested 42 men who may have just been cruising, but — with several in drag and apparently making speeches — seems to have been an early gay rights demonstration.

felixdiaz Felíx took advantage of his uncle’s regime, not only in finding himself lucrative positions, but in using the other machines of dictatorship for his own benefit. The “Valle Nacional” in Oaxaca, a rich tobacco-growing region, functioned as a sort of gulag for political prisoners… the tobacco growers needed cheap labor, the cheaper the better. Not feeding workers cut down on overhead, and — besides — they were prisoners. Felíx regularly supplemented his income cleaning out the city jails — and, when he needed extra cash — rounding up vagrants or other “inconveniences” to ship off at five pesos a head.

One of the 42 men rounded up, only 41 were sent to the Valle. While Igancio was not, in our sense of the word, closeted, he was never charged with anything (nor were the others), and he was never shipped off to the death camp. To this day “42″ is Mexico City slang for a closeted gay man.

maricones The “scandalous and licentious” acts of the very rich and well-connected have always been overlooked, but the importance of this raid (and the fate of the 41 less well-connected victims) have haunted the consciences of Mexicans ever since. Of course, gays continued to be shaken down, beaten up, or arrested on bogus charges by Mexico City police but never with the same enthusiasm — and the well-heeled gay man was more likely to be left alone.

Ignacio did not get off entirely scot-free. While under continual surveillance by his father-in-law’s secret police, his occasional weekend parties at his hacienda in Cuatla might be reported, but — as long as he stayed in Cuatla — he was left alone.

I can’t find a photo of the guy (and I’ve been looking), but maybe it’s enough to say that he liked to show visitors his “library” — meaning his extensive clothing and shoe collection. He’s described by a pseudonymous biographer in the gay literary journal, Enkidu Magazine (“Juana la loca*”) as tall and slim, well known and popular (at least with his buddies from Mexico City).

“Juana” probably doesn’t read Edwin Arlington Robinson, but the lines from Richard Corey fit: We the people used to look at him/Clean favored and imperially slim.

Not too many people in Cuatla were likely to have a lot of fashion sense. They were more likely to appreciate that Ignacio was spending his spare time raising horses. And, as every horse breeder in Morelos knew, the “go to guy” for training was Emiliano Zapata.

Emiliano_zapata Zapata began working for De La Torre in 1906, but, responding to complaints from other landowners about the horse-trainer’s annoying habit of demanding rights for the local peasants — and protesting land grabs — he was drafted into the army in 1908. As Ray Acosta uncovered, De La Torre used whatever credibility he had with his father-in-law to arranged for Zapata’s discharge in March 1910 in return for agreeing to work as De La Torre’s groom.

The two had an unlikely relationship beyond the business relationship. Perhaps Zapata — a snappy dresser himself — was one of the few people to appreciate those suits and shoes. Perhaps De la Torre just had a taste for good looking working class guys. We don’t know, but, the fact that Zapata was friends with an obviously gay man was used after his death to attempt to discredit his political followers, and his memory.

In the early stages of the Revolution, De la Torre protected Zapata, even passing along Zapata’s messages to Don Porfirio during the 1910 election. Porfirio wrote “Nacho (Ignacio) is a continual headache.”

Naturally, though, as a rich guy, not to mention as a relation of Porfirio, he was going to end up on the wrong side of the Revolution. Although his land was seized, Zapata did release De La Torre from prison, when he briefly controlled Mexico City in 1914.

Personal friendship aside, the enemy of your enemy is my friend. Both De La Torre and Zapata had a common enemy in Venustiano Carranza, and he was protected during his time in Morelos, until 1917, when he was again arrested. This time, he fled to the United States where he died (under anesthesia during a hemorrhoid operation) on April Fools´Day, 1918.

* For those not familiar with Spanish, or Spanish history, the name is a double pun. ¨Loca” is often used for an effeminate gay man — a “screaming queen”.

Juana la Loca, the mother of Carlos I (Emperor Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire) was briefly Queen of Castille. She was the only surviving child of the greatest power couple of the time, Ferdinand and Isabella. However Ferdinand was only King of Aragon, not of Castille. Juana made the mistake of actually loving her husband, Philip the Handsome (I love those Spanish royal nicknames!). In the middle of the power struggle to control Castille (which was quickly becoming Spain), Philip died, and Juana — either a depressive or a schitzophenic — got a little funny in the head, eventually being locked up until the teenaged Carlos could be put on the throne. And then, neglected and abused the rest of her short life… became a tragic figure in Spanish literature and history — and, literally, a screaming Queen.

Categories: Ciudad de México · Emiliano Zapata · Gays · Human Rights · Ignacio de la Torre · La Raza (Mexican cultures and peoples) · Mexican History 1910-20 (Revolution) · Monaco · Porfirio Diaz · Spain · Sugar · Venustiano Carranza
Tagged: Mexico 2010

Juarez… the condensed version

21 August 2009 · Leave a Comment

Bicen-cen-1

2009 is also the 150th anniversary of the Leyes de la reforma, which led to a complex reactionary movement. You should, of course, read the book , but even there, it’s recommended seeing the entire film, not just the (slightly under) four minute trailer.

It’s actually a pretty good movie, as far as costume dramas go. While probably more sympathetic to the Hapsburgs than I would like, and perhaps slighly misleading in suggesting that Benito Juarez was inspired by Abraham Lincoln (the two had much in common, and admired each other, but Juarez was very much his own man… as was Lincoln), but for that, it’s one of the few classic films based not on a novel, but on a popular non-fiction work ((Bettina Harding’s “Phantom Crown”). Aside from the oddball casting of the Austrian actor Paul Muni as the anti-Austrian Juarez, and one one Mexican among the stars (Gilbert Roland), the casting is just about perfect… besides, nobody does crazy like Bette Davis.

Categories: Benito Juarez · Bette Davis · Emperor Maximiliano · Empress Carlota · Gilbert Roland · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Movies and TV · Napoleon III
Tagged: Mexico 2010

Calderon’s “Enemies List”

19 August 2009 · 3 Comments

I made a few small revisions from the original post, to clear up an inadvertent slur. There are U.S. conservatives here, but what they say about Mexican politics is usually so very wrong that for U.S. conservative views I go right to the horse’s ass and quote some U.S. source.

Patrick Corcoran’s Gancho Blog posts:

The army accidentally searched a Juárez house of Manuel Espino, one of Calderón’s prickliest critics from the PAN. High-ranking officers have apologized to Espino, calling the incursion a “mistake”. That’s quite an embarrassing mistake to make. I have a friend in Los Pinos who tells me that other houses to be “mistakenly” searched in the comings weeks include those of Creel, AMLO, Ebrard, Encinas, and Beltrones.

I haven’t seen any mention of this yet in “my” newspapers[1], and languishing out here in provincia, don’t have any Los Pinos contacts these days, but still, the idea of an “accident” is a little incredible. During the last election, the Calderon administration did everything it could to claim their opponents were criminally-motivated (or bought) and it wouldn’t be the first time the administration has used military “investigations” to harass opponents.

I’m dismissive of the “three-ten theory” (there was a 14 year war of independence starting in 1810, a ten year revolution starting in 1910, therefore, in 2010…) but I did say way back in 2007 that Felipe Calderon reminded me of Porfirio Diaz. Make that Porfirio Diaz ca. 1909 when Don Porfirio was still considered an indispensible man outside of Mexico despite troubling allegations of human rights abuses. Then, as now, there were clear signs of dissatisfaction with the President — from the left, right and center; poor farmers were being hammered by the “free trade” of their day (with many rural residents supporting those who turned to alternative businesses — like Pancho Villa); the intellectuals fussed about economic and social domination from the north, and looked for more ties to the south; and the President was using the Army to harass political opponents.

The big difference is that Porfirio’s “lame-duckitude” was mostly a matter of old age where Calderon is about to become the first real President we’ve had to face a united opposition. While Congresses during the Madero, Salinas de Gortari and Zedillo administrations also had opposition majorities. Madero wasn’t able to control his congress (and it ended up badly for him), but Salinas and Zedillo were able to finish out their terms and carry out most of their own agenda, mostly because they faced a fractured opposition of opposing parties. Calderon faces a PRI plurality boosted into a majority by the Greens (a weird Green party to be sure, but unlikely to buck the PRI in anything but symbolic measures), and a PRD vehemently opposed to the Calderon agenda. And the Supreme Court has taken on a more active role in political affairs than previously.

There is not going to be an armed uprising, but between an isolated president dependent on the Army and foreign support, intellectual and political calls for change and economic uncertainty, 2010 will be a year of change.

[1] Everybody seems to have their favorites. Patrick, being a more conservative sort than I am, usually references the “mainstream” media pundits or Excelsior. I’m supposedly leftist (though I don’t think particularly so in Mexican terms) and tend to look at the middle-of-the road Milenio and El Universal, as well as the socialist Jornada, and folks like “Blogotitlan” although I try to find links in English-language sources.

Categories: Ernesto Zedillo · Felipe Calderón · Francisco I. Madero · Gustavo Diaz Ordaz · Media · Mexican Army · Mexican History 1910-20 (Revolution) · Mexican History 1921+ · Military · PRI · Politica (Mexicana) · Porfirio Diaz

Celebrity endorsement — 1909

31 July 2009 · 1 Comment

Porfirio Diaz on the wonders of high-tech.

Notice that Don Porfirio, who was born in 1830 in rural Oaxaca, spoke the same precise, cadenced Spanish favored by Mexican politicians today.

Categories: Mexican History 1824-1910 · Porfirio Diaz · Technology

Fuero militar

29 July 2009 · 6 Comments

I had to gloss over a lot of Mexican history when I wrote “Gods, Gachupines and Gringos“. I wasn’t prepared to get into the nitty-gritty of every coup, counter-coup and counter-counter coup of the 19th century … it seemed enough to note that there were two broad factions — Conservatives and Liberals. The Conservatives were not anti-development, but sought to preserve the cultural system inherited from Spain; Liberalism, influenced more by capitalist theory, accepted that foreign influence and tolerance for outsiders was the cost of doing business. Eventually, Liberalism would win out — for the most part.

To the Conservatives, if the culture was to be preserved, the guardians of the culture were the Church and the military, both institutions having their jealously guarded “fueros” — special legal rights. Naturally, the Church and the Army both generally sided with the Conservatives. By re-defining the military as a guardian of the State, not the inherited culture, the Liberals were finally able to win their struggle with the Conservatives, though only by leaving military fueros largely in place.

The military itself remains a largely conservative institution. While Porfirio Diaz was a professional army officer (and, though we consider him a reactionary today, in his own time was considered an advanced, liberal leader), and Mexico’s political leadership has come until very recently from the military, the great military men seen as politically “liberal” — Morelos, Villa, Zapata, Obregon — were self-taught in the art of war. Zapata was the only one had military training, but was never more than a sergeant.

On the other hand, Mexico — unlike most of Latin America — was able to eventually take the military out of politics. The 1910-20 Revolution created a new military caste which controlled the Revolutionary Party, but with the foundation of the PRI in 1949, the military was finally separated from an active political role. Incidentally, this was the same year that Costa Rica removed their military from a political role through the radical step of abolishing their military forces.

While military officers continue to influence political decision making, it’s mostly behind the scenes. That the Army and Navy are used for political ends is no secret (witness 1968, or the Zapatatista uprising of the 1990s), but for the most part, the military has played a very small part in contemporary Mexican political life.

Until recently. The “War on Drugs”, as reported in foreign papers, is identifed as “Felipe Calderon’s War on Drugs”… which is about right. With questions about Calderon’s legitimacy in office never having gone away, and with the mid-term elections showing large repudiation of Calderon’s governance, it’s no longer just the Mexican left questioning the seemingly increasing military role in civilian life.

Bloggings by Boz, which is a pretty reliable source for U.S. “inside the beltway” attitudes towards Latin America (or at least the smarter ones) comments on one recent news story:

Related to Mexican President Calderon’s fight against drug trafficking organizations, today’s Washington Post headline “New Strategy Urged in Mexico” has one problem: it suggests there was an old strategy.

Boz assumes the strategy was to fight the cartels, not to maintain the present administration’s legitimacy. And, that the Calderon Administration is “Conservative” — in the very old fashioned, 19th century sense. It’s not a matter of Conservatives being pro-military, but of Conservatives seeing Church and Army as the pillars of civilization. PAN’s clericalism is better known, and — something I never much considered — much of the PAN elite’s disappointment with Vincente Fox might have to do with his generally anti-military biases.

In many ways, Fox was a “liberal” — in the 19th century sense. His election was largely due to managing to tone down the rougher edges of traditional conservatism (although, under the influence of his wife… and the party “base”… he did pander to the Catholic Church) and focus on the capitalist free-market traditions considered part of modern conservatism.

But, consider that as soon as the “War on drugs” took off, Calderon was being photographed wearing a uniform. I think Lazaro Cardenas was the last president to wear a uniform in photographs. I don’t recall Manuel Avila Camacho, the World War II President (and a General) ever wearing one, nor any president up until Calderon (who never did military service).

Forget for now the human rights issues and whether or not the “war” is winnable… if the strategy is to impose the conservative vision on Mexico, then –yes — keeping the military in the streets makes perfect sense.

While Argentina has gone the furthest in putting the military under civil control, taking the radical step of doing away with a separate military justice system and Ecuador refused to renew the lease on Manta airbase to the United States at least in part over concerns for the “fuero militar”*, the Calderon Administration has been seeking to broaden them.

We shouldn’t be surprised. Dick Cheney, to cite a well know U.S. conservative thinker, suggested using the Army to arrest a few suspected terrorists in Lakawana New York. Not because the arrests required any special military skills, or out of a distrust of civilian police, but because it would set a precedent. As someone on the Rachel Maddow Show (one of the few U.S. news programs I see once in a while) put it, it was a “Demonstration model” of political power: in this case, to return the military to a role in civil control.

*The United States has avoided signing international conventions on human rights, and insisted on immunity for its soldiers in foreign countries, mostly out of concern that the soldiers could be extradited to stand trial for activities associated with the military duties.

But, for the “host” countries, sometimes the issues are much simpler. In Ecuador, as in other countries where U.S. bases are politically unpopular, much of the local opposition to Manta came from local women and business owners. U.S. soldiers — like any other group of young guys — don’t always behave as they should. U.S. soldiers who’d shoplifted, or been in bar fights, or impregnated local women — had to be tried (if they were tried) by U.S. military courts, which made it difficult or impossible for shop keepers to get their money back, bar owners to get compensated for broken glassware and abandoned women to get child support.

Categories: 2006 Elections · Alvaro Obregon · Americas (outside U.S. and Mexico) · Argentina · Benito Juarez · Courts · Crime and Punishment · Dick Cheney · Drugs · Ecuador · Emiliano Zapata · Felipe Calderón · Gringo(landia) · Human Rights · José Maria Morelos · Lazaro Cardenas · Legal system · Manuel Avilla Camacho · Mexican Army · Mexican History 1810-1824 (Independence) · Mexican History 1824-1910 · Mexican History 1910-20 (Revolution) · Mexican History 1921+ · Military · Military budget · Navy · PAN · Pancho Villa · Politica (Mexicana) · Porfirio Diaz · Vicente Fox

Woops… missed an important date

14 July 2009 · Leave a Comment

Not Bastille Day, but the one Burro Hall caught:

It’s hard to think of another country that was so heavily controlled by a religious entity (in this case, the Catholic Church) and that so radically and suddenly handed that entity a steaming platter of Shut the Fuck Up the way Mexico did 150 years ago today. The law passed on July 12, 1859, basically nationalized all Church property (with the exception of actual churches) and suppressed religious orders. Additional laws nationalized cemeteries, separated Church and State, made births, deaths and marriages civil functions and allowed other religions to exist.

The Burro adds “it was an enormous event in the history of this country… and is, for reasons we don’t fully understand, being completely ignored on its sesquicentennial. It’s the same reason Benito Juarez’ birthday was moved to a Monday holiday. PAN has the Presidency, and is a clerical party.

Kevin G. Hall (“Miami Herald,” July 22, 2006)

Calderon’s father was among the many who took up arms in defense of the church, and it was that sense of persecution that led him in 1939 to join with other conservative Catholics to found the National Action Party, or PAN in its Spanish initials, the party whose banner Calderon appears to have carried to victory.

Unless Mexico’s Federal Electoral Tribunal overturns the disputed July 2 election, Calderon, 43, will be the first president of Mexico whose life is steeped in the brand of conservative Catholicism that gave rise to the Cristero guerrilla movement, which fought against the anti-clerical policies of Mexico’s ruling generals from 1926 to 1929.

The return of clericialism… it’s not just for FeCal anymore:

PAN officially claims to be a non-confessional party in a country that is 90% Christian; however, while on the campaign trail in 2000, Vicente Fox appeared holding a banner emblazoned with the revered icon of the Virgin of Guadalupe – and was fined MXN $20,000 for mixing religion and politics. As president, he continued to make public appearances attending mass as well as proclaiming his faith (even kissing Pope John Paul II’s ring upon his arrival in Mexico in 2002) and at times ending his speeches with a “God bless you”, enraging several sectors of Mexican society for mixing politics and religion In some cases, PAN mayors and governors have banned public employees from wearing miniskirts (Guadalajara), clamped down on the use of profanity in public marketplaces (Santiago de Querétaro), and the last and most polemical had to be with the mayor of Guanajuato City, who tried to prevent couples from kissing on the streets.

fox-and-pope