Mike Austin

Political Scientists, like Economists, love to use analytical models in their scholarly writings. If the class readings are at all representative, Political Scientists specializing in Latin America are particularly prone to this behavior. These writers use the concepts of dependency, corporatism and clientelism as models to explain the political conduct of our southern neighbors. As our discussion of the dependency theory will illustrate, human society is notorious for upsetting the most intricate designs of scholars. Nevertheless, a conceptual model that is firmly grounded in history can provide a useful framework for understanding Latin American politics. This essay will examine and critique several of these concepts, and then will use them to analyze the evolution of Mexico’s “single party democracy.”

Of the three concepts, this is the least reliable. It is based on a faulty understanding of economics and an irrational envy of western achievement. It seeks to place the blame for all of Latin America’s troubles on foreign — that is, on capitalism’s — doorstep. The dependency theory is really a tropical rendition of Lenin’s Imperialism, and it uses Marxist analysis to explain the functions of foreign capital and the actions of the “imperialist powers.” It ignores the real causes of Latin America’s decline, poverty and weakness, the Latin Americans themselves.[1]

The theory is beguiling in its simplicity. It gets its name through the claim that the development of third-world countries[2] (the “Periphery”) is absolutely dependent upon and locked into the development of first-world countries (the “Center”). The Center needs primary resources, the Periphery has them, and so the potential of a mutually beneficial bargain arises. However, there are simply too many “peripheries” offering the same product (coffee, sugar, or that Latin American perennial, the banana), and so the Center has the luxury of setting the price it desires. Worse — that is, worse from the perspective of the unlucky Periphery but not from that of first-world consumers — we are presented with the spectacle of the Periphery bickering with its various parts to sell its products to the Center, often for less than the products cost to produce. Since the Periphery is caught up in the mad rush to modernize, it needs products only available from the Center, products whose prices are also set by the Center. If the Periphery cannot come up with the required money, the Center will lend it the necessary amounts thereby forcing the Periphery into a debt that ever deepens but that is never repaid.

The dependency theory provides a convenient explanation for the low prices of commodities on the world-market, for the problem of third-world debt and, because the economies of the periphery are at the mercy of the whims of first-world consumers — coffee is at a premium this year, bananas the next, then back to coffee — for the “boom-bust” cycle so typical of Latin American countries.[3]

A more sophisticated version of the dependency theory than the above was rendered by Theotonio dos Santos, the Brazilian Marxist economist. He describes three forms of dependence: colonial, financial-industrial and multinational. Spain’s expansion in the fifteenth century was really a search for raw materials, and the economies of her new colonies reflected this. The Spanish enterprise was a purely extractive one, and the colony (“the periphery”) existed only to provide for the motherland (the “center”). Spain controlled all trade and finance, and siphoned off most of the profits for the uses of the court at Madrid. The colonies gained their independence from Spain only to fall prey to foreign capital as it spread from the Center in its never-ending search for profit. The colonizing states expanded their interests abroad through the investment in the raw materials that the Periphery had in abundance. Its economy was yoked to the interests of the Center, where its products provided for mass-consumption and a high standard of living.[4]

The world economy after The Second World War saw a huge increase in direct investment by the Center in the emerging internal markets of the Periphery.[5] The rise of the Multinationals magnified this trend: not only were the multinationals providing products only for the Center, but the abundant supply of cheap third-world labor guaranteed steady profits. These were then repatriated to the Center and often found their way back to the Periphery by way of banks which were quick to loan to regimes starved for hard currency.[6] Thus, the problem created by the Center — a lack of convertible currency due to low commodity prices — was exacerbated: the newly borrowed cash was immediately spent on the necessary imports to maintain steady industrialization but only after the required interest on the debt was paid. This lead to a crisis in the foreign accounts: the third-world’s imports greatly exceeded her exports, which forced her to apply for loans to make up the difference.

To dos Santos it is the policies of the Center that have retarded the development of the Periphery and that have lead to its problems which are so obvious today.[7] Thus, third-world underdevelopment is necessary for the success of capitalism,[8] for the Center must control the economy of the Periphery to insure the availability of cheap raw materials upon which its own development depends. As a result of this the Periphery will never be free from the dominance of the Center until, somehow, a radicalized vanguard emerges and forces sharp military and social confrontations. These will either lead to “governments of force”, i.e., fascism, or to “popular revolutionary governments”, i.e., socialism.[9] Dos Santos and other dependency theorists view it as more likely that a right-wing authoritarian regime would arise from such a situation and that international creditors such as AID and the World Bank would favor such an outcome.[10] Foreign capital prefers a strong, stable government that is able to make the necessary economic choices to insure payment of debt. For this reason dependency itself is seen as leading directly to “governments of force.”[11]

The dependency theory enjoyed substantial popularity during the late 1960’s and into the 1970’s, especially among academics both Anglo and Latin. It offered a simple appeal: the stark problems of Latin America were caused by the policies of the United States Government.[12] That it bore little relation to reality did nothing to hinder its allure; on the contrary, its visceral anti-Americanism gained it an automatic following among those who blame the home of international capitalism for all the world’s evils.[13]

Latin Americans did not always blame others for their troubles. Here is Bolívar on the reasons for their woes:

I consider that, for us [Latin] America is ungovernable; whosoever works for the a revolution is plowing the sea; this country [Gran Colombia] will ineluctably fall into the hands of a mob gone wild, later again to fall under the domination of obscure small tyrants of every color and race; [We will be] decimated by every kind of crime and exhausted by our cruel excesses.

From Latin America’s greatest hero and from her greatest poet one hears not a word about dependency, imperialism, colonialism, international finance, capitalism or any other part of dos Santos’ philosophy. Why then the popularity of the dependency theory?

The answer lies in history, and in envy. In 1700 the Spanish Empire was the largest the world had yet seen. It was incomparably richer than any of its rivals. A score of its colonial cities were important commercial and cultural centers at a time when Britain’s colonies in North America were almost irrelevant in world affairs. Mexico could boast of a printing press as far back as 1548; the Universities of Mexico and Lima were founded more than one hundred years before Harvard. The area of what would become the capital city of the United States was a malarial swamp so inhospitable that even the Indians refused to live there. When the thirteen colonies became the United States no major power gave her much of a chance of survival. She was then, as we would say today, a third-world country. Even at the onset of the Mexican-American War European popular opinion foretold a crushing defeat for the Americans.[16] The United States went on to seize one-half of Mexico’s national territory, dominate the hemisphere, spread her language and culture across the globe and build a military machine that would destroy her greatest rival without firing a shot. She has emerged as the richest, most powerful and influential nation in man’s tumultuous history. During this same period Latin America, despite a highly intelligent and educated ruling elite, a common language, culture and religion,[17] and a vast amount of natural resources, degenerated into the impoverished squalor we know today. What had happened?

Dos Santos does not have the answer; he does not even ask the proper question: it is not, “Why is Latin America poor?” but “Why is the United States rich?” In other words, why does senhor dos Santos concentrate on evident failure and not on just as evident success? Someone should tell him that poverty, insecurity and violence have been and continue to be the lot of most of humanity. Dos Santos should ask why some countries, and not others, have risen above this Hobbesian state. He does not recognize — or will not admit — failure on the part of the Latin Americans themselves and refers to their economies as being in a state of only “alleged backwardness.”[18] Should we now inform the sprawling masses of Pernambuco and Pará, of São Paulo and Managua that their poverty is only “alleged” poverty. The urban poor of Tegucigalpa and Mexico City would certainly be pleased to know that their degradation is only “alleged” degradation. And the disease, the corruption, the political violence that infest Latin America? Why, those are just more “alleged” problems. Clearly, dos Santos is not connected with reality; but then is any Marxist?

The United States is rich because her free enterprise system based on property rights and mobile capital has provided for the creation, protection and transmission of private wealth. All wealthy nations have some combination of these elements; Latin America has almost none of them. It is just that simple. But help is on the way. A growing appreciation of the free market system and an understanding of the political and social benefits of private property rights have begun to make headway toward eliminating the stultifying effects of planned economies that have been all too common throughout Latin America’s history.[19] One need only look at Chile, the bête noire of the Left, to see how progress can be made.[20]

The theory of corporatism seeks to explain the organization of the State, whose duty it is to provide order, harmony and unity to the body politic. The central principle of corporatism is that all contending elements in society are to be organized, maintained and directed by the State. No authentic source of political or social influence can legally exist outside this structure; indeed, if such a group arises and is seen as threatening the social order, the State has a moral and legal obligation to crush it.[21] “Rights” only exist within the context of the group, for only as a member of a group can an individual fulfill his potential as a contributor to society.[22] Anyone outside a group has no legal standing and no rights. From time to time a new group can obtain official status but only after demonstrating the ability to exercise power outside the corporate system.[23] Thus admitted to the corridors of influence this new “power contender” must play by the already established rules of the State. If the State were ever to fail to keep the social contract one or more power contenders have the right to remove its government and institute a new one.[24]

All of this stands in stark contrast to the organizing principles of the United States. There, rights are not granted by the State but are inherent in an individual from birth — what Jefferson called “natural rights.” Since these rights do not emanate from the State, the State cannot take them away, and any attempt to do so would be grounds for rebellion. The “public good” is defined as individual self-interest, which also forms the basis of the American economic system. An individual defines himself not by membership in any
State-sanctioned group but by his own choices and his own actions.[25]

Dealy compares the liberal tradition of the United States with the monistic tradition of Latin America, which he defines as “the centralization and control of potentially competing interests.”[26] He goes on to say that Latin Americans tend to support the “unification of groups at all levels of society” and the elimination of all competition among these groups. This is corporatism, but at a more profound level. Where the North American would praise plurality and diversity, the Latin American would praise monism’s defense of unity. The source of this belief Dealy finds in the Catholic Church, or more precisely in its official philosopher, Saint Thomas Aquinas. Saint Thomas did not think much of the idea of a “private good”: the private and the public pull in two different directions. Thus the all-pervasive Catholic Church[27] has always stressed that the common good was greater than the sum of its individual parts — as eloquent a defense of corporatism as one could want. Because of this Dealy finds little chance that liberal, pluralistic democracy will ever take root on Latin soil. When a Latin speaks of democracy, he does not mean competing branches of government with a separation of powers; he does not mean a constitution written as a mechanism to protect the dispersion of power. He means first and foremost a strong, popularly supported, central authority that at times must act extra-constitutionally[28] to protect the general welfare and preserve public order.[29] Certainly some would say that this would therefore not be a “true” democracy.[30] I would then ask, by whose standards? Our own? But as has been shown our political traditions are incompatible with those of Latin America. Besides, I doubt that the Latin Americans are awaiting for United States’ approval as they go about the difficult business of building a modern society.

Clientelism and corporatism are related concepts. While the theory of corporatism lays out the organizational structure of the State, clientelism describes the inner workings of each group of the corporate bureaucracy. Members of a group relate to one another through an intricate web of relationships whose defining characteristics are power, favoritism and face to face exchanges. In such exchanges there is always a subservient “client” requesting a favor and a dominant “patron” willing to bestow one. By granting the favor the patron expects the allegiance of the client. This situation has been compared to the relationship between peasant and landowner that existed in colonial society, but actually it pre-dates it.[31] Often a patron might have a huge network of clients connected directly to him — the larger his client network, the greater his power. It was not unusual for a patron to also be a client of someone with more power and influence than himself. Clients are successful in their personal endeavors according to how successful their patron is. As a patron rises in society he takes his clients with him; he develops a network of loyal followers who are indebted to him for their success. Latin American government ministerios are arranged in exactly this way. Thus the actual business of society is conducted in personal exchanges between clients and patrons with no intervening, impersonal bureaucracy.[32]

At the head of all patron-client networks lies the State, which is the number one patron. Each corporate group serves as its client to which it dispenses favors and from which it expects loyalty. The leader of the State, whether president, general or dictator, appoints the head of each group; this lucky fellow then pulls along his personal client network to staff the bureaucracy and to aid him as he must aid the one who appointed him. Thus the State as patron rewards its loyal employees as clients but can just as easily punish any perceived disloyalty.[33] We have already discussed what happens when a new group succeeds in threatening State authority: if not destroyed, it is brought into the system and, most important, it is given client status. All the perquisites of power now accrue to it as long as it remembers that it owes its official position to the State. In this way the State can assimilate a point of potential opposition and remove a possible revolutionary base.

John Powell further develops the theory behind the patron-client relationship. He identifies three elements common to such exchanges: there is an obvious and demonstrable inequality in influence, wealth and status between the two parties; the idea of reciprocity, though subtle, is acknowledged by both client and patron; the relationship is personal and is defined by face-to-face encounters.[34] Powell sees the ruling class of the State as having organized itself in just such a manner.[35] He almost says that the main function of the State is to dispense patronage to its various groups, thereby insuring harmony and order. The contrast with the organization of norteño society is stark: free enterprise stresses impersonal relationships, economic rivalry and efficiency. It is not yet clear what effect the spread of capitalism will have on Latin American social order, but we can expect that whatever emerges from the mixing of market competition with the existing client-patron relationships will somehow be adjusted to the demands of unity, harmony and order.[36]

Since its origins under Calles the history of the Party of Institutionalized Revolution (PRI) has been the history of Mexico: its influence penetrates every corner of society from the presidency down to the meanest slums of the capital. It has made Mexico the only single-party state outside Cuba in this hemisphere,[38] and has given Mexico a political continuity unknown since the Porfiriato and unique to Latin America. We will use our three models to try and discover the reasons for this remarkable stability.

The dependency theory is more or less irrelevant to an understanding of Mexican party politics. Mexican leaders have at times indeed placed the blame for Mexico’s problems at the door of foreign capital, but their talk has always been hotter than their actions. Cárdenas’ nationalization of the oil companies in 1938 should be seen not as a blow to international capital but instead as a part of the development of the political organization that would become the PRI.[39] Just as his land reform was meant to placate, consolidate and bring into the Mexican regime the vast rural peasantry — the historical source of insurrection — his expropriation of 1938 was a step in the organization of labor for the party.[40] His nationalist rhetoric rallied most of Mexican opinion to his side, which gave him time to spend on the building of the party.[41] After 1940 Mexico concerned herself more with economic growth than social reform — notwithstanding a few more bursts of anti-capitalist fervor.[42] As if to demonstrate the unsuitability of any leftist ideology to Mexican realities a guerrilla movement did in fact break out in 1971. Mexico appeared to be heading toward the type of ferocious political violence common to most of her southern neighbors. Where dos Santos would have predicted a “government by force” or a “popular revolutionary government,” nothing of the sort happened; the government was never in real danger.[43] The guerrilla leader Lucio Cabañas was caught and executed within the year. The “oppressed classes” so beloved by Marxists completely sided with the government, so broad based was the PRI’s support.[44]

It is impossible to discuss the PRI without using the corporatist and clientelist models, which perfectly describe the form and structure of the party. To see this clearly, one should view Mexican politics before the founding of the PRI. The years following Independence were years of great political instability. Political parties were more like clubs, and the two most prominent ones — the Federalists and the Centralists — were intimately associated with different Masonic rights. As one group would come into office — usually through a military revolt that culminated in the assassination of the now ex-president — it would immediately busy itself with the dismantling of its predecessor’s policies. The real business of government remained undone, and neither the Centralists nor the Federalists were much concerned with creating a widely based political organization. Their client-patron networks were strictly along ideological lines: each party detested the other, and no compromise was possible.[45] Political violence, rebellion and foreign intervention were endemic. Díaz managed for thirty-five years to hold control, but he did not do so through mass participation in the political process: his policies tended to favor business interests and foreign capital, and to ignore the rest. This system collapsed in 1910, which ushered in another ten years of turmoil and destruction.

Plutarco Elías Calles knew his history. As president he immediately set out to build a political organization that would encompass and assimilate every sector of society: labor, peasants, the military, business, intellectuals, the right, the left — all would be included in the party structure and all would be taught to look to the party for support and government favors.[46] No other political party would be recognized. Calles was building a single-party state, but unlike any other: the party certainly would dominate society but it would allow participation to all Mexicans by way of the PRI organization. Thus Mexico entered the “era of the presidents,” where each sector of society would be organized and directed by the all-pervasive PRI, with the president at its head. Politics would now be on a mass level where an individual could not make his voice heard unless he was a member of a PRI-sanctioned organization. All political leaders had to rise through the PRI,[47] all bureaucracies were staffed with PRI members and only the PRI dispensed government largesse. Political novitiates would acquire a patron early on; as they moved up the bureaucracy they would form their own web of clients. The PRI client system was not restricted to just the ruling elite: each slum in the capital had its cacique [48] who served as a buffer between the elite and the underclass. The inhabitants of these slums would go to their local cacique for favors from the PRI. Clearly the PRI was involved in incorporating every possible element of society into the protecting arms of the State.

The strength of this system was astounding: events that would have finished another Latin government served to demonstrate the regime’s resilience. In 1959 Lopéz Mateos was faced with a crippling railroad strike: it seems that union head Demitrio Vallejo had the audacity to want a new, absolutely independent railway union. The strike was crushed and Vallejo was jailed for several years “to encourage the others.” Nineteen sixty-eight saw a student rebellion in Mexico City. As part of their political demands these students wanted public discussions with the PRI, something completely against the established rules of political conduct. These students further deviated from PRI doctrine by being independent from any officially sponsored group. The government under Díaz Ordaz responded with a ferocity that Mexico had not witnessed since the days of the Revolution.[49] The message from these incidents was clear: the PRI would accept no challenges to its power; all political disagreements were to be kept private; any unofficial group had no rights.

We need to ask if this political structure has equipped Mexico for the modern age. What effect will the coming trade reforms have on the corporatist design of the State? Will the PRI adapt to capitalism and modern methods of political organization? How will Mexico’s system survive truly open elections? Will the client-patron relationship change beyond recognition as it adapts itself to capitalism’s emphasis on impersonal efficiency over face-to-face personal exchanges? Some answers to these questions are beginning to take shape: Salinas has officially recognized the PAN and has allowed it to win several elections, though as of yet non-crucial ones; he has struck at formerly protected echelons of power, including the head of PEMEX; he has instituted various economic reforms that have no doubt weakened the PRI’s control of the economic levers of society.[50] Still, the PRI is losing strength on the left and on the right even as competing client-patron groups within the party are coalescing in the coming battle for the presidency.[51] Will the new president in 1994 be from the PRI? One gets the sense that the party, while still remaining a viable organization with considerable support, might just find itself one day in the unaccustomed role of political opposition. If that occurs there will be many who will say that Mexico has arrived.

1. Rangel, Carlos. The Latin Americans. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1976.

3. Skidmore, Thomas E., and Smith, Peter H. Modern Latin America. NewYork: Oxford Press, 1992.

5. Lenin, Vladimir Illych. Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism. New York:International Publishers, 1939.

6. Meyer, Michael C., and Sherman, William L. The Course of Mexican History. New York:Oxford Press, 1991.

7. Tutino, John. From Insurrection to Revolution in Mexico. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986.

9. Diamond, Larry, et. al., eds. Democracy in Developing Countries: Latin America. Boulder: Lynne Reiner, 1989.

[1]Lest the reader think from this essay that I am “biased,” “bigoted,” or in some way prejudicial against Latin Americans, I must mention from the outset that my father was Mexican, my wife is Costa Rican, and that I spent several years teaching History and Government in Latin America. Así que tranquilo.

[2]It is not considered “Politically Correct” to use this term because it implies a “first-world”, i.e., a materially superior, more modern world — which is, after all, my point. Thus it is anathema to multiculturalists.

[3]One is reminded of Brazil’s rubber and sugar, Costa Rica’s coffee and Venezuela’s oil.

[4]“South America...is so dependent financially on London that it ought to be described as almost a British commercial colony.” — Schulze-Gävernitz, as quoted in Lenin, Imperialism (New York, 1939), 85.

[5]Dependency theorists have a particular aversion to foreign investment, seeing it as form of “economic imperialism.” Guerrilla movements throughout Latin America have used it as a rallying cry, and many times governments have responded, usually by nationalizing selected — that is, foreign-owned — industries.

[6]It is true that there are citizens of the Periphery who benefit from foreign investment, but dos Santos would no doubt see them as having a “bourgeoisie” conscious, i.e., as having more in common with the elites in the Center than with their own countrymen. Thus, they are part of the problem.

[7]Theotonio dos Santos, The Structure of Dependence, 96.

[8]For our purposes, “capitalism,” “western imperialism,” and “the Center” are interchangeable concepts. I doubt the dependency theorists would have a problem with this.

[9]ibid., 104. What dos Santos means here by “socialism” would be more accurately described as communism.

[10]Thomas Skidmore and Peter Smith, Modern Latin America (Oxford, 1992), 9-10.

[11]“Finance capital does not want liberty, it wants domination.” — R. Hilferding, as quoted in Lenin, op. cit., 84.

[12]Of course, most dependency theorists would change “the United States Government” to “western imperialism,” but since Latin American intellectuals have a fixation on real or imagined American evil, I consider the substitution a worthy one.

[13] I should also add that many western academicians — especially those with tenure — exhibit a certain tolerance of totalitarian societies and a calculated disdain for capitalism. The reasons for this reside in the realm of psychology and so are beyond the scope of this paper. Those with an interest in this subject might see Paul Hollander’s Political Pilgrims and Jean-Francois Revel’s The Totalitarian Temptation.

[14]Written in 1830.

[15]Quoted in Carlos Rangel, The Latin Americans (New York, 1977), 32. For some eloquent opinions to the contrary, see the poetry of Pablo Neruda and the writings of Carlos Fuentes.

[16]ibid., 21-22.

[17]Although Brazil’s heritage is Portuguese, not Spanish, the reasons for her present economic condition are similar to those for her Spanish-speaking neighbors.

[18]Dos Santos, op. cit., 103.

[19]Peruvian economist Hernando de Soto has written extensively on this subject.

[20]Chile is paying her foreign debt and expanding her economy — the only Latin American country in this situation. She did this by implementing the policies of Adam Smith and the “Chicago Boys,” and not those of dos Santos and Marx. Her recent economic history refutes the entire dependency theory. I should add that there is a great deal more wrong with the theory of dependency than I have the space to mention here.

[21]Here lies the source of a thousand crimes.

[22]The corporate structure is also found in pre-Colombian society. To instill harmony and order in their expanding empire the Inca government would organize and employ resistance groups; traditional leaders of subject communities (kurakas) were given land grants and brought into the Inca State. — Thomas Patterson, The Inca Empire (New York, 1991), 78, 94.

[23]Mexican campesinos only received official recognition and representation after a century of rural insurrection. Similarly, Argentine labor emerged as a political factor by demonstrating its power through years of strikes and unrest. It was finally harnessed and given government sanction by Juan Perón.

[24]Witness the events in Chile in 1973 and in Argentina in 1976. There are many other examples.

[25]One area of American politics that does fit the corporatist pattern is the structure of the Democratic Party. The Party is organized into various competing “power contenders,” i.e., feminists, homosexuals, blacks, civil rights groups, environmentalists, labor, et. al., to which one must belong to receive any recognition from the Party. Individuals are almost irrelevant: all claims to Party favors must originate from an official group, and all Party largesse is dispensed in the name of a group. Anyone emerging from outside a group, especially if he “belongs” inside — Clarence Thomas, Harry Beck — is seen as a threat and is to be destroyed politically if at all possible.

[26]Glen Dealy, The Tradition of Monistic Democracy in Latin America, 73.

[27]The Catholic Church still wields great power in Latin America. This is too often forgotten,

[28]One recalls Lincoln’s suspension of habeus corpus during much of our Civil War.

[29]The recent Peruvian coup was instructive. Here we were presented with a total breakdown of public order, massive and increasing political violence, a cholera epidemic and an economy on the verge of collapse. Yet, Peru was a democracy by U.S. standards because she had an elected congress and president. Fujimori’s takeover was widely applauded by the Peruvians themselves: even today he enjoys a 78% favorable rating in Peru. Predictably, the western press castigated Peru for having “abandoned her democratic principles.” The U.S. has resorted to threatening to cut off aid if Fujimori does not hold immediate elections — a particularly American fetish. The Peruvians emphatically do not want any more elections, perhaps rightly seeing them as having lead to the present state of affairs. The differences between monism and liberalism could scarcely be more clearly drawn.

[30]Thomas Skidmore and Peter Smith, op. cit., 9-11.

[31]A common figure in Inca society was the zinchi, the local strong man with a large number of clients. The Aztec empire had as its clients almost every surrounding city-state from which it demanded loyalty and to which it dispensed favors and punishment.

[32]This is why it is difficult for someone outside the client-patron system to arrange a legal, business or governmental transaction. Most business is conducted on a personal level. Any businessman newly arrived in Latin America quickly learns this.

[33]This is the philosophy behind the power of Latin American central governments to remove any governor of any state or district whom it feels has been disloyal. No doubt this authority makes our own presidents a little envious.

[34]John Duncan Powell, Peasant Society and Clientelist Politics, 520-521.

[35]The members of the ruling class within each Latin American country are well acquainted with one another. They attend the same schools, belong to the same clubs and marry within the same social milieu. The network of clients and patrons they form in this environment is life-long. It is common for a president to be on what we would call a “first name basis” with all his ministers, with all governors and state leaders, and with all prominent journalists, lawyers and artists.

[36]Or we might see the rise of a new class, that of free market merchants, bankers and industrialists that challenges the power of the long established social and political structure. It was the emergence of just such a class in Northern Europe in the thirteenth century that brought an end to medieval society.

[37]Octavio Paz, The Labyrinth of Solitude (New York, 1961), 344.

[38]Our discussion is concerned with Spanish and Portuguese America, not with Surinam or the Guyanas.

[39]The PRI had its roots in the National Revolutionary Party, which was begun under Calles in 1929. Cárdenas re-named it the Party of the Mexican Revolution in 1938. It took its present name under Alemán in 1946. By whatever name it always had as its goal the mass mobilization and organization of the competing sectors of society.

[40]Thus was born Petróleos Mexicanos (PEMEX).

[41]This amply contrasted Cárdenas' policies with the pro-investment policies of the despised Porfirio Díaz.

[42]Witness the policies of Echeverría and those of Portillo in the waning days of their administrations.

[43]That this event occurred three years after the Tlateloco Massacre only underscored the strength of the PRI.

[44]Skidmore and Smith, op. cit., 244. To this day the PRI receives most of the votes of the lower classes.

[45]Not even during the Mexican-American War did the political parties come together. As Winfield Scott’s army neared the capital Mexican politicians were still arguing over government policy.

[46]Jonathan Kandell, La Capital (New York, 1988), 470. Calles worked fast: he had no intention of ending as his predecessors did.

[47]ibid., 492. Kandell’s description of the candidate selection process is revealing.

[48]Tellingly, cacique is a nahuatl word that was used by the Aztecs to describe a local strongman or chief.

[49]The Tlateloco Massacre, as this event is called, deserves a more careful study than it has received. To this day no one knows how many died. The government says 49; the students say several hundred. The Mexican media never fully investigated this tragedy.

[50]These include: allowing the peso to stabilize against the dollar, selling off government-owned enterprises and easing banking restrictions.

[51]Larry Diamond, Juan Linz, Seymour Lipset, eds., Democracy in Developing Countries: Latin America, (Boulder, 1989), “Mexico: Sustained Civilian Rule without Democracy,” Daniel C. Levy, 487.

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