Luis Rubio
David Foster Wallace, the novelist, once told the story of two young fish swimming along who meet an older fish. “How’s the water?” asks the elder. “What the hell is water?” the younger ones reply. The most fundamental freedoms are like that water: invisible until they vanish. And that is precisely the core issue with the electoral reform Morena seeks to impose on the citizenry.
The essential elements that sustain a society’s daily life are not things like streets (potholes and all) or electricity, but rather the ability of citizens to interact with one another and with their government. On this rests the preservation of social peace, the existence of jobs, and the possibility of progress—however one chooses to define it. That openness, philosopher Karl Popper reminded us, does not survive on its own; it endures only if citizens defend it against those who would exploit it to destroy it.
Morena’s proposed electoral reform will put to the test the very existence of citizenship as a living force. For years, civil society organizations—many of which are today active parts of Morena itself—helped nurture the fragile growth of Mexican democracy. Now, both those organizations and the citizenry face a choice: remain silent in the face of the governing party’s assault, with all the risks that entails; or reawaken, return to their origins, and assume once again the historic role that decades ago made possible the end of authoritarian rule.
There is no doubt that Morena has the votes to approve whatever legislation—even constitutional amendments—that its leaders may desire. Yet the social and, potentially, political costs could be enormous. In an era of ubiquitous information, a government’s legitimacy is far more vulnerable than it may appear. That is why, in the medium term, what citizens do—or fail to do—matters so profoundly.
Over time, two contrasting images of Mexican citizenship have stayed with me. On the one hand, Mexicans are extraordinarily creative, resourceful, and adaptable. One need only observe street vendors darting through traffic in search of a living. The famedmilusos—the jack-of-all-trades—is not an oddity but an essentially Mexican expression of ingenuity. That adaptability, that drive to seek and find alternatives, is also a defining feature of Mexico’s sociopolitical life. And yet today, many civil organizations once devoted to human rights, freedom of expression, and democracy seem adrift—lost in outer space as though Morena were an escalator that suddenly stopped, leaving its riders frozen, unable to take a single step on their own.
Not a few laws and institutions emerged in response to citizen pressure: electoral bodies, a transparency agency, human rights commissions, public health coverage, and legislative re-election. One by one, these have been dismantled or absorbed—that is, neutralized—by the government. And few alarms have been sounded, while Morena marches on, true to the old Mexican saying: “straight ahead, and I won’t step aside.” And yet, an authoritarian government threatens all, regardless of political affiliation.
A regime that controls all branches of government can, of course, impose its will. Yet it would do well to consider the consequences. Once the electoral system is reshaped—subordinated to the governing party—there is no turning back. Momentum makes everything look easy, but that is a recipe for mistakes and for eroding one’s own foundations.
In his biography of Robespierre, historian Marcel Gauchet notes that the French revolutionary could not conceive of alternation in power as essential to political stability, because he could not imagine a political party as anything other than the representative of a narrow interest—and therefore incompatible with a free citizenry. The lesson proved harsh for Robespierre, and there is no reason to believe it will be different (albeit by other means) for Morena. In an age of instant access to national and global events, it is nearly impossible to cling to power by force and without legitimacy: people know there are better options. Nothing guarantees that Morena’s current dominance or legitimacy will endure.
None of this is likely to persuade the government or Morena’s leadership. Their calculation is plain: they control the three branches of government and can do as they please. Moreover, given the president’s popularity, they estimate that the risks are minimal. Once in control of electoral institutions, they assume, their hold on power will be permanent. If there were any doubt, recent rulings by the National Electoral Institute and the Electoral Tribunal dispel it.
That said, two final points deserve mention. First, given its propensity for fragmentation, nothing guarantees Morena’s internal unity will last. Second, it is far from certain that civil organizations—today paralyzed within Morena—will remain so indefinitely. After all, that is exactly what happened with the PRI.
@lrubiof
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