The economic crash of 1907 must have disillusioned Don
Porfirio as sorely as it did the coterie of cronies and advisors with
whom he had surrounded himself. After nearly three decades of "peace
and progress", the bubble had burst, and Mexico was facing a host of
seemingly insurmountable problems. When an American journalist
interviewed Díaz in 1908, he clearly was speaking as a tired
old man, confiding that he would retire at the end of his current
term and not seek re-election.
Moreover, he announced that the time had also come to welcome
an opposition party into the political life of
Mexico.
Coming from the "horse's mouth", these were indeed encouraging
words, at least for potential dissidents. One of these was a general
by the name of Reyes from Monterrey who promptly announced his
candidacy for the presidency. However, when Porfirio was "entreated"
by his finance minister to change his mind and run for an eighth
term, General Reyes realized that he would not receive the support of
the army that he had anticipated and so quickly departed the country
on an extended trip to Europe.
In the neighboring state of Coahuila, Francisco Madero, the
37-year old son of a wealthy landowner, was so disappointed by
General Reyes "chickening-out" that he decided to run for the
presidency himself. Considering himself a "friend" of Díaz,
Madero was no "flaming revolutionary" but at best could be termed a
"moderate reformer" who fully expected to run a polite and
gentlemanly contest against the venerable "Old Man". On a campaign swing around
the country, he found support in the adjacent border states of the
North and also in the Yucatán and was formally nominated by a
convention in Mexico City in April 1910. However, Don Porfirio was no
more happy about his "young friend" running for his office that he
had been about the general, so he had Madero jailed on a trumped up
charge and went on to win re-election by an "overwhelming" mandate of
the Mexican people, along with his hand-picked
Vice-President.
When Madero was released on bail, he escaped to Texas where he
declared the election null and void and called for a rebellion to be
launched on November 20. Having taken note of sweeping political
changes throughout the hemisphere, notably in Argentina, Uruguay, and
in the United States itself, Madero was more convinced than ever that
the time had come to put an end to the Díaz regime. Madero's
call to arms was taken up in several parts of the Republic, by
disparate individuals, groups, and factions that each had their own
special bones to pick with the "establishment". In Puebla, the
Serdán brothers, scions of a once wealthy land-owning family
themselves, took up arms on November 20 and promptly became victims
of the army's reprisal. Only in the more remote areas of the country,
far from the centralized power of the goverrment, did the up-start
rebels win any victories of consequence. Among them were the bands of
guerrillas led by Pascual Orozco in the mountains of western
Chihuahua, who were soon joined by the unruly troops commanded by
Francisco Villa, whose first fame was as an outlaw. (Although Villa's
initial crime was killing the landowner who ravished his sister, once
on the run, he soon expanded his attacks on the hated establishment
to include cattle rustling.) When government troops came north to
crush them, Orozco and Villa massed their rag-tag army near Ciudad
Juárez to meet them in battle. Madero attempted to dissuade
his allies from fighting so near the U.S. frontier, lest stray
bullets end up in El Paso and give the Americans an excuse to
intervene. Fortunately, such fears not only turned out to be
unfounded, but the rebel army also managed to decisively defeat the
federal troops. In the resultant Treaty of Ciudad Juárez,
signed in May 1911, Madero revealed how limited his expectations for
change really were. Both Díaz and his new vice-president were
"invited" to take an extended tour of Europe themselves, all federal
troops were to be removed from the three northern states of Coahuila,
Chihuahua, and Sonora, which clearly had been identified as the
rebels' stronghold, and finally, fourteen of the state governors were
to be appointed by the new government, replacing Díaz' old
cronies and/or their family members who had occupied these offices
for an entire generation.
Madero further agreed that Díaz' former foreign
minister, de la Barra, who was constitutionally empowered to serve as
Don Porfirio's successor, should be named interim president until a
new election could be held. He also agreed, quite naively, that the
federal army could keep its weapons and that the rebel armies should
be disbanded, now that "victory" had been secured. The following
November, when the results of the election were tallied, Madero
assumed the office of President, confident that his "rebellion" had
fully accomplished its mission.
There were, however, many Mexicans who did not share this
view. For them, the real struggle had not yet begun. Among them was
Emiliano Zapata, a campesino from the state of Morelos, who had
watched as the large, commercial sugar plantations had swallowed up
the lands of the small farmers and Indian ejidos during the boom-days
of the Díaz era. For Zapata, the Revolution would not be
complete until land-reform had taken place, and for him, this meant
that all the haciendas should be obliged to surrender one-third of
their acreage, in return for proper compensation. Only those
hacendados who did not agree to this formula would have their lands
seized without payment. In Zapata's view, large landowners and small
farmers should be able live in peace alongside of one another as long
as they respected each other's rights -- hardly an extreme or radical
stance for a "revolutionary."
Yet, such thinking was completely alien to a hacendado like
Madero, who regarded Zapata and his confederates as "perverse
vandals." Díaz had attempted to
put down Zapata's rebellion by ordering General Venustiano Huerta
into the field against him, and de la Barca had continued the
struggle with Madero's blessing. Now, acting as President in his own
right, Madero called upon Huerta to continue his campaign to destroy
the Morelos uprising. Indeed, in June, 1912, Madero went out of his
way to disassociate himself from any commitment to land-reform,
making only a token effort to defuse the Morelos conflict by setting
up a commission to examine the claims of the Indian ejidos to their
lost lands. Similarly, when Orozco, his colleague in arms in
Chihuahua, proposed the expropriation of unused hacienda lands in his
state, Madero totally disregarded his suggestion. And, when it came
to righting the wrongs of the overworked and underpaid factory
workers, Madero answered their concerns with nothing more than florid
rhetoric.
Not content with such meaningless dribble, craftsmen in
various parts of the country began to become more vocal in their
struggle for social justice and gradually the foundations for a
genuine labor movement began to take shape in Mexico. From its
headquarters in Mexico City, the "House of the World Worker" soon had
a network linking the major industrial centers of central and
northern Mexico. When strikes broke out in the textile industry, the
Madero government found itself obliged to react by means other than
crushing the dissent with armed intervention. It was at this time
that the first faltering steps were taken to create what eventually
became a system of government-controlled unions.
Needless to say, the Madero government quickly disillusioned
not only the campesinos like Zapata and the mine and factory workers
like Orozco, but soon found itself espousing the philosophy and
promoting the objectives of little more than the miniscule
middle-class. The cultural backgrounds of the Madero and Díaz
cliques and their "friendship" for one another forestalled any but
minor cosmetic changes from taking place. The old bureaucracy was
still largely intact and the army still had its guns. Moreover, all
too often Madero turned to the Porfiristas for advice on how to
govern.
When the Zapatista uprising spread from Morelos into the
adjacent areas of central Mexico, reaching even the outliers of the
capital itself, it looked to some of the old guard Porfiristas as
though they might have a chance to regain power themselves. One of
these was General Reyes, who had returned from his trip to Europe and
was keeping anxious eyes on the Mexican situation from a vantage
point in Texas. However, when he crossed over the border to start his
revolt, he was quickly seized by the local authorities, charged with
treason, and sent off to jail in Mexico City. In Chihuahua, Orozco
also rebelled, not only defeating an army hurriedly dispatched
against him by Madero, but also starting a march southward toward the
capital. In desperation, Madero sent another detachment against him
under the command of Huerta, who this time put the rebels to flight.
However, shortly thereafter, the situation became further confused
when the nephew of Díaz started a revolt in Veracruz. Although
he too was quickly captured and sentenced to death for treason,
Madero once more showed his "affection" for his old friend by
commuting his nephew's sentence and putting him in jail in Mexico
City instead.
At this point Madero was literally "sitting on a time
bomb." With two of Díaz'
"generals" languishing in a Mexico City jail and others chafing at
Madero's ineptness from the Military College just a few miles away,
it was a simple matter for the latter to march in, set their
colleagues free, and then descend on the National Palace. After Reyes
was killed leading the attack on the Palace, Dîaz' nephew
pulled his forces back to an old army barracks in the center of the
city while Madero once more enlisted Huerta to save his government
from destruction. For the next ten days opposing elements of the army
exchanged artillery fire in the middle of the capital city, killling
hundreds of civilians and destroying many of its buildings. Then
suddenly, on February 18, the shelling ended, for Huerta, in a
perfidious about-face, arrested both Madero and his vice-president,
having been "bought off" by the American ambassador, Henry Wilson, in
a secret meeting the night before. When Huerta inquired of the
ambassador whether he should exile Madero or commit him to an "insane
asylum", the answer he received was to "do whatever you think is best
for the country." Three days later both Madero and his vice-president
were shot to death as they purportedly "tried to escape."
Feeble and misguided as Madero's attempts to rectify Mexico's
post-Porfirio problems had been, they were no match for the
behind-the-scenes power exerted by the United States in this matter.
President Taft was thoroughly unhappy with the jeopardy in which
American investments in Mexico had been placed and he had reacted by
sending more troops to the frontier, dispatching warships to Mexican
waters, and warning American citizens to leave the northern border
states lest their lives and property be
threatened. The fact
that the Madero government had levied a twenty centavo tax on each
ton of crude oil exported from Mexico was seen as an ominous
indicator of the '"frivolous", anti-capitalist policies of the new
regime. Ambassador Wilson had even gone to the length of warning
Madero that American troops were poised to land in Mexico if it
became necessary to protect American lives in the capital and had
strongly "recommended" that Madero resign the Presidency. It was when
Madero refused to resign that Wilson contacted
Huerta.
Once Huerta assumed the presidency, he was in no hurry to give
it up. Yet, to try to govern under the circumstances confronting him
was virtually impossible. The governor of Coahuila, Venustiano
Carranza, quickly rose in revolt against him, as did Villa in
Chihuahua and Obregón in Sonora, and of course Zapata already
was fighting against the "government" in the center of the country.
In desperation Huerta instituted a draft, swelling the size of the
army a dozen-fold, conscripting Indians to serve as privates and
mestizos to form his officer corps. The lure of the army was money,
not "patriotism" or "ideology". Promising the hordes of unemployed campesinos a
living wage to shoulder guns, even if it meant risking their lives,
seemed a far more "sporting" alternative than simply starving to
death in the fields.
Of course, having been enticed into office by the Americans,
Huerta fully expected that they would come to his assistance. But
such was not to be. President Taft dumped the Mexican problem into
Woodrow Wilson's lap when the latter moved into the White House in
March 1913. For his part, Wilson not only removed his namesake from
the embassy in Mexico but also refused to give his support to Huerta,
accusing him of having taken office by "an unconstitutional
act." This moralistic
approach to foreign relations did not prevent President Wilson from
selling arms to the rebels in the north and of openly taking the side
of Carranza, however. Huerta then turned to England for financial
assistance to buy arms and for a time the English were happy to
provide whatever guns and ammunition he required. In April 1914, an
American warship landed troops at Veracruz, claiming that they were
interdicting a shipment of arms from Germany. In the resultant
struggle with Mexican authorities, hundreds of civilians were killed,
while the Germans quietly landed their cargo of armaments farther
down the coast at Coatzacoalcos. By August of that year, however, the
English halted all shipment of arms to Mexico, in return for having
been granted special concessions by the Americans in using the newly
opened Panama Canal. At that juncture, with all access to guns and
ammunition cut off, Huerta realized that the jig was up. Once again,
the destiny of Mexico had been decided by the machinations of the
Great Powers, and the armies of Carranza and Villa triumphantly
marched into the capital later that month.
Once Carranza had seized the reins of power in Mexico City, he
called a convention of the various leaders of the anti-Huerta forces
in an effort to unify the government. Although they were invited to
meet in the capital, Villa was wary of venturing into a part of the
country where he personally was not in control, so at his insistence
the convention was moved to the western city of Aguascalientes.
Besides Villa, Obregón also attended but Zapata only sent some
representatives. It soon emerged, to no one's great surprise, that
Carranza, the hacendado, had no real sympathy for the notions of land
reform espoused by Villa and Zapata, and once Obregón realized
that the convention was deadlocked, he quickly withdrew. Although
Carranza had fully expected to be named the interim president until
new elections could be held, Villa and the Zapatistas chose General
Gutiérrez instead. As tensions rose between the rival
factions, Villa, with a substantially greater army under his command,
advanced southward and drove Carranza out of the capital, The latter
was obliged to take refuge in the port city of Veracruz which was
then under the military control of the U.S. marine corps. It was
here, literally with his back to the sea, that Carranza reluctantly
agreed to issue a decree that would nullify all the land surveys and
expropriations of smallholdings that had occurred since the beginning
of the Díaz era.
Even so, this decree still did not go far enough to satisfy
Zapata. Villa was likewise disappointed, and even though he vowed to
join Zapata in crushing Carranza,
he soon started
pulling his army back to the safety of his northern base as
Carranza's re-equipped forces began regrouping. As he worked his way
northward, he was met by Obregón, Carranza's ally, near the
town of Celaya in April 1915. Although Villa's cavalry had won repute
as one of the most formidable military units in Mexico, two bold
charges against Obregón's strongly fortified positions were
repulsed with heavy casualties, and Villa was forced to abandon
control over the central part of the country to the Carranza
government.
Ironically, the outbreak of war in Europe in late 1914 worked
to the further advantage of Carranza. Although the United States had
attempted to remain "neutral" as the various rebel factions fought
for control of the government, President Wilson tended to favor Villa
because the latter had supposedly guaranteed American investments.
After Villa's bloody defeat at Celaya, Wilson warned the rebels that
if they couldn't settle their differences, he would be obliged to
"help Mexico save itself." Carranza scoffed at the warning while the
Villa and Zapata camps signaled their willingness to talk with the
"mediators." However, when Washington realized that Germany seemingly
was interested in "keeping the Mexican pot boiling", it made an
abrupt about-face and not only extended diplomatic recognition to the
Carranza government but also began selling arms to
it.
Naturally, this move infuriated Villa and in March 1916 he
swept into the mining camp of Santa Isabel, Sonora and killed sixteen
American workers. A few days later he and his men crossed the U.S.
border into southern New Mexico and attacked the town of Columbus,
burning buildings and killing more Americans. Carranza immediately
issued a warrant for his arrest, but the Americans were intent on
capturing Villa themselves. General John J. Pershing was dispatched
to Columbus with a detachment of mechanized troops using newly
developed half-track vehicles and airplanes. The half-tracks proved
to be of little use in the sandy and rocky desert terrain, and the
airplanes, with their fixed-pitch wooden propellers, were unable to
take off in the rarified atmosphere of the plateau; as a result,
Pershing's expeditionary force had to resort to horses to follow
Villa's trail into Mexico. This incursion lasted for eleven months
and cost $130 million, only to be stopped by Carranza's army after it
had pushed some four hundred miles into Mexican territory. The U.S.
agreed to withdraw only if Mexico would "respect the life and
property of foreign nationals", to which Carranza replied that he
would not compromise the national sovereignty of Mexico under the
duress of such a demand. Finally, the Americans reluctantly decided
that there was nothing more to be gained by their fruitless attempt
to capture Villa, and they gave up the
mission.
With Zapata cornered in the mountains of Morelos and Villa on
the run in the northern desert, Carranza convened a constitutional
convention in Querétaro in the winter of 1916. Since only the
moderate wings of the rebel movement were in attendance, the document
that the delegates produced was devoid of any far-reaching or
fundamental reforms. Even so, it went a lot farther than Carranza had
hoped, because he would have been content with some minor re-wording
of the Constitution of 1857.
In Article 3 of the new document, it was stated that "public
instruction in public institutions shall be free", but beyond that,
no provision was made for either building schools or making
attendance mandatory. Indeed, the Ministry of Public Instruction,
which had been created by the Díaz regime, was dismantled, and
the financing and administration of schools was made the
responsibility of the local and state governments instead. The old
arguments of church versus state-sponsored education so dominated the
convention's deliberations that a compromise finally made all primary
education the purview of the government but allowed the church to
maintain secondary schools, if it
wished.
Most of the delegates were also resigned to the fact that the
land-reform issue was not going to go away, so they had to make at
least a token effort to face up to that at
well. They
insisted that the sanctity of private property was to be put ahead of
public need, and, if any land changed hands, it would have to be paid
for. So, when Article 27 was drafted, provisions were made for
subdividing large properties but also for recompensing the
hacendados. (Since the individual states were given authority to
write the laws as to how this was to be accomplished, not a single
state made any move to implement this provision until a half a dozen
years later.) In keeping
with the "Mexico for Mexicans" philosophy, the ownership of land and
its sub-soil rights was restricted to Mexican citizens, although
foreigners who agreed to abide by Mexican laws could also acquire
property. The government was given the further power to review all
contracts and concessions made during the Díaz era to confirm
that they accorded with the best interests of the Mexican
state.
Nearly one hundred articles farther along in the constitution,
in Article 123, the concerns of the workers were addressed. An
eight-hour day was called for, limitations were placed on the kinds
of tasks expected of women and children, Sundays were to be
guaranteed as 'days of rest', a minimum wage was to be established
based on local living conditions, workers were to be entitled to
health and accident insurance, and their children were to be given
education in company schools. Mexican workers were to be paid the
same wages paid to foreigners, and women's wages were to be equal to
those of men. Workers not only had the right for form unions but the
right to strike was also guaranteed. However, like Article 27,
implementation of this provision was likewise left up to the
individual states, so enforcement of the code was less than uniform
across the country.
Article 130 of the new constitution re-examined the role of
church and state, made necessary, it was felt, because the Church had
enjoyed such a 'special' position vis à vis the Díaz
regime. While freedom of worship was guaranteed, the church was to be
subordinate to civil authority. Among the rights reserved to the
individual states, for example, was the authority to determine what
proportion of the priests within their jurisdiction must be
native-born citizens of Mexico. Naturally, given to addressing such
issues as these, the resulting document became inordinately lengthy
and detailed.
Nevertheless, the constitution produced in Querétaro in
1917 was hardly the radical document that Mexico required to address
the multitude of problems the country
faced. In the words of
one delegate to the convention, it represented the will of a people
who "wanted revolution but not much." How adequate it would prove to be in meeting the
challenges of the post-Díaz era was yet to be demonstrated,
and it fell to Carranza, who was elected the country's president in
May 1917, to initiate the great experiment.
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