Translated by Noah Burton
Ideas and theories transform reality because they guide the actions of people and groups. A first step is asking relevant questions like ‘How authoritarian or democratic is our political system?’
To interpret that transformation is the work of we academics who, in a fit of stupidity, chose to enter a profession whose toolbox is limited to making predictions; the processes studied are not replicable, as they would be in a laboratory setting. One consequence – albeit a minor one – are the bits of barbed humor hurled at social scientists; Peter Ustinov once said, half-jokingly, that the social sciences are the niche of those who “have not decided what to do with their lives.” Despite critiques like that, the knowledge that we have accumulated does allow us make sense of information and, to some extent, explain reality.
Professors Juan Linz and Lorenzo Meyer went against the grain with their interpretations of reality. During the 1960s the Cold War produced an analytical rigidity around the schematic division of the world into “slaves” and “free people,” distinguishing those living in dictatorships from those living in democracies. Each side of the Cold War used the terms differently though, with each assigning themselves the “free” label, history's chosen ones.
From that dichotomous environment emerged Juan Linz, the timid academic who proposed a third, intermediate category for authoritarian regimes. The term became widely used because it described well the transition to democracy that countries around the world were experiencing at the time. And so “transitology” was born, an area of study which, curiously, excluded Mexico from its scrutiny (we can discuss this peculiar evasion another time.)
It was now up to Mexican academics to point out what their foreign colleagues overlooked and to address the accuracy of the self-definition that the PRI had made of its own political system. According to the party in charge, Mexico was a federal, democratic republic. In 1965, a party-pooper named Pablo González Casanova refuted this characterization in his book “Democracy in Mexico,” in which he described the political system as presidentialist and centralist, with serious deficiencies.
Lorenzo Meyer was working toward his doctorate at the University of Chicago in 1968 and says that during his time there: “I found myself drawn to the theory of Juan Linz” on authoritarian regimes, and he used it to reexamine Mexico with his “own vision.” He compared the structures of Mexico under the government of Porfirio Díaz and under the governments that came out of the Mexican Revolution and he concluded that Mexico was a an imperfect and authoritarian democracy, a system that fit within the framework developed by Linz. What a paradox! The German-Spanish professor had developed his typology with Franco’s regime in mind and Meyer demonstrated that Mexico’s revolutionaries – who despised Franco – carried with them the same DNA as Franco himself.
To define the Mexican system as authoritarian had a brutal impact on the legitimacy of a regime already weakened by economic factors. Those unhappy with the regime worked to change basic rules, creating the conditions for an alliance between right and left that eventually led to alternation in the office of the president. Sadly, this progress was led off track by the frivolities of Vicente Fox.
“Our Persistent Tragedy” (Debate-Random House Mondadori), the new book by Lorenzo Meyer, is out now. It is a coherent and up to date work, a new reexamination and redefinition of the political system in Mexico. It makes sense that the book would contain a generous dose of disenchantment; it is a common feeling among those of us who worked hard for and believed in the utopias that would follow transition. Alternation and federalism have both failed to achieve truly beneficial change for the majority. The PRI never left; it took just hid out for awhile and was reproduced in the minds of Panistas and Perredistas alike [members/supporters of PAN, rightist, and PRD, leftist political parties, respectively].
Meyer released “Our Persistent Tragedy” on September 19th and, without knowing it, gave a final tribute to Juan Linz, who died two weeks later. It was a tribute because Linz had theorized, with a pile of evidence to back him up, that the transition from authoritarianism to democracy comes with a return ticket, and that it can revert back to old ways, even if its essence has been modified. It is not a mystery why Meyer subtitled his book “Authoritarian Democracy in Mexico,” nor is it surprising that he sees it as impossible “to determine whether we are dealing with an authoritarian democracy or with a democratic authoritarian government.”
There are seeds of optimism in Meyer’s diagnosis. The PRI returned to a changed Mexico; “what is new is not within the PRI, but in its surroundings: in Mexican society.” In other words, the driving force behind change in the country is no longer the political parties, but rather it is the responsibility of the people to be that force. Is society conscious of that challenge? How democratic or authoritarian is Mexican society? Answers to those questions will come from some professor after reviewing, critically, the work of Linz and Meyer. That’s how the social sciences are. Spanish Original
*Sergio Aguayo is a professor of political science in the College of Mexico and a leading political analyst and commentator in Mexico. He is president of Civic Alliance and a leader in the Movement for Peace with Justice and Dignity. He obtained his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University. His thesis was on the history of Mexican-U.S. government relations in the twentieth century, published as Myths and MisPerceptions: Changing U.S. Elite Visions of Mexico (U.S.-Mexico Contemporary Perspectives Series.
Ideas and theories transform reality because they guide the actions of people and groups. A first step is asking relevant questions like ‘How authoritarian or democratic is our political system?’
To interpret that transformation is the work of we academics who, in a fit of stupidity, chose to enter a profession whose toolbox is limited to making predictions; the processes studied are not replicable, as they would be in a laboratory setting. One consequence – albeit a minor one – are the bits of barbed humor hurled at social scientists; Peter Ustinov once said, half-jokingly, that the social sciences are the niche of those who “have not decided what to do with their lives.” Despite critiques like that, the knowledge that we have accumulated does allow us make sense of information and, to some extent, explain reality.
Professors Juan Linz and Lorenzo Meyer went against the grain with their interpretations of reality. During the 1960s the Cold War produced an analytical rigidity around the schematic division of the world into “slaves” and “free people,” distinguishing those living in dictatorships from those living in democracies. Each side of the Cold War used the terms differently though, with each assigning themselves the “free” label, history's chosen ones.
From that dichotomous environment emerged Juan Linz, the timid academic who proposed a third, intermediate category for authoritarian regimes. The term became widely used because it described well the transition to democracy that countries around the world were experiencing at the time. And so “transitology” was born, an area of study which, curiously, excluded Mexico from its scrutiny (we can discuss this peculiar evasion another time.)
It was now up to Mexican academics to point out what their foreign colleagues overlooked and to address the accuracy of the self-definition that the PRI had made of its own political system. According to the party in charge, Mexico was a federal, democratic republic. In 1965, a party-pooper named Pablo González Casanova refuted this characterization in his book “Democracy in Mexico,” in which he described the political system as presidentialist and centralist, with serious deficiencies.
Lorenzo Meyer was working toward his doctorate at the University of Chicago in 1968 and says that during his time there: “I found myself drawn to the theory of Juan Linz” on authoritarian regimes, and he used it to reexamine Mexico with his “own vision.” He compared the structures of Mexico under the government of Porfirio Díaz and under the governments that came out of the Mexican Revolution and he concluded that Mexico was a an imperfect and authoritarian democracy, a system that fit within the framework developed by Linz. What a paradox! The German-Spanish professor had developed his typology with Franco’s regime in mind and Meyer demonstrated that Mexico’s revolutionaries – who despised Franco – carried with them the same DNA as Franco himself.
To define the Mexican system as authoritarian had a brutal impact on the legitimacy of a regime already weakened by economic factors. Those unhappy with the regime worked to change basic rules, creating the conditions for an alliance between right and left that eventually led to alternation in the office of the president. Sadly, this progress was led off track by the frivolities of Vicente Fox.
“Our Persistent Tragedy” (Debate-Random House Mondadori), the new book by Lorenzo Meyer, is out now. It is a coherent and up to date work, a new reexamination and redefinition of the political system in Mexico. It makes sense that the book would contain a generous dose of disenchantment; it is a common feeling among those of us who worked hard for and believed in the utopias that would follow transition. Alternation and federalism have both failed to achieve truly beneficial change for the majority. The PRI never left; it took just hid out for awhile and was reproduced in the minds of Panistas and Perredistas alike [members/supporters of PAN, rightist, and PRD, leftist political parties, respectively].
Meyer released “Our Persistent Tragedy” on September 19th and, without knowing it, gave a final tribute to Juan Linz, who died two weeks later. It was a tribute because Linz had theorized, with a pile of evidence to back him up, that the transition from authoritarianism to democracy comes with a return ticket, and that it can revert back to old ways, even if its essence has been modified. It is not a mystery why Meyer subtitled his book “Authoritarian Democracy in Mexico,” nor is it surprising that he sees it as impossible “to determine whether we are dealing with an authoritarian democracy or with a democratic authoritarian government.”
There are seeds of optimism in Meyer’s diagnosis. The PRI returned to a changed Mexico; “what is new is not within the PRI, but in its surroundings: in Mexican society.” In other words, the driving force behind change in the country is no longer the political parties, but rather it is the responsibility of the people to be that force. Is society conscious of that challenge? How democratic or authoritarian is Mexican society? Answers to those questions will come from some professor after reviewing, critically, the work of Linz and Meyer. That’s how the social sciences are. Spanish Original
*Sergio Aguayo is a professor of political science in the College of Mexico and a leading political analyst and commentator in Mexico. He is president of Civic Alliance and a leader in the Movement for Peace with Justice and Dignity. He obtained his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University. His thesis was on the history of Mexican-U.S. government relations in the twentieth century, published as Myths and MisPerceptions: Changing U.S. Elite Visions of Mexico (U.S.-Mexico Contemporary Perspectives Series.