COLUMN ONE : A Question of Culture, or Cruelty? : A movement to ban part of the Mexican rodeo, or <i> charreada, </i> is gaining support in the state. Animal rights groups say tripping horses is inhumane, but fans say racism is behind the criticism of traditions.

In Mexico, the charreada , or Mexican rodeo, is the national sport, an honored tradition dating back to the early 1700s when wealthy landowners roped steers and bucked broncs in an artful show of cocksure elan.

The charros were the first cowboys, later teaching their roping tricks to American settlers. And their colorful outfits--sombreros, floppy bow ties, leather chaps--became the Mexican national costume.

To be a charro in Mexico is a badge of macho authenticity. But to a growing number of people in California, the charro is a horseman who abuses animals for sport, and parts of the charreada could soon be illegal.

The rodeos, popular throughout the Southwest, have angered animal rights groups, who decry the mangana, one of the nine traditional charreada events, in which charros fell galloping broncos by roping their front legs.

Animal rights groups say the horses, often past their prime, frequently break bones and snap tendons in the event--one horse is used throughout the contest--and are generally dispatched to the slaughterhouse after a single charreada.

The movement to ban horse tripping appears to be gaining momentum, drawing the support of groups ranging from the California Veterinary Medical Assn. to the California Council of Police and Sheriffs to the United States Equestrian Team.

Last year, a bill to ban tripping horses for entertainment died in the Assembly’s Committee on Agriculture, mainly due to pressure from American rodeo organizations, which feared a backlash would spread to their sport. But a similar bill, which appears to have substantial support, sailed through a key Assembly committee last Wednesday and is moving to the full Assembly.

In an emotional debate, charro leaders, charging racism, say they are the victims of an attack on minority and rural culture that the urban majority does not, and perhaps cannot, understand. Animal rights activists--some of whom are Latino--say the charros are using political correctness to justify cruelty.

“The shame of it is that people are ignorant of charreadas, “ said Pedro Vaca, the president of Federacion de Charros, U.S.A., which includes about 60 charro associations nationwide. “The fact is that we have been attacked by people for unclear motives. This is a Mexican sport, and I think that has something to do with this. If they take this away from us, what happens next? That’s what many of us Latinos are saying.”

But the opposition also includes influential Latino organizations, such as the Mexican American Political Assn. And the late labor leader Cesar Chavez condemned the violence of the sport.

Fernando Negrette, an animal rights activist, was surprised to find the charreada in the United States when he moved from Mexico City to the San Fernando Valley 10 years ago.

“As a Mexican American, I’m very concerned that some Mexicans use the issue of race to justify the criticism for their abuse of animals, the so-called ‘tradition’ of charreadas, “ he said. “I am not against tradition, just against cruelty.”

The roots of the charreada have been traced to the medieval tournaments of Europe, but they truly begin in the alardes , or military reunions instituted after the Spanish conquest of Mexico in 1520. Large groups of horsemen would gather to further intimidate the Indians with Spain’s military prowess.

The most important influence on the charreada, however, was the Mexican ranch, where horsemen would celebrate the end of the branding and roundup season, downing wild bulls by their tails and roping and riding wild horses. Only the ranch owners-- hacendados --and their white associates, such as the clergy, were allowed to compete.

In fact, so many Spanish priests were active in the sport that in 1700, the archbishop of Michoacan issued a proclamation forbidding the clergy from riding in ranch fiestas.

The 18th and 19th centuries were the heyday of the charreadas. The traditional events, or suertes , were developed and standardized, and the sport captured the nation’s attention. In the 1860s, charros from northern Mexico traveling in the American Southwest introduced settlers to the charreada, and the American rodeo was born.

After the Mexican Revolution came a renewed interest in Mexican culture in the 1920s, and the popularity of charreadas was revived--this time by upper-middle-class urbanites. To preserve tradition, the neo- charros extensively regulated everything from the size of the lienzo , or arena, to the costume, to the proper way to lasso a horse.

As mariachi groups moved from Jalisco to Mexico City, they donned trajes de charro to shed their image as peasant musicians, and the dress became a cultural symbol. Then in the Golden Age of Mexican cinema in the 1930s, the romantic, genteel and singing charro was immortalized by icons such as Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete.

Today, there are more than 900 charro associations in Mexico, and wherever there is a sizable community of recent Mexican immigrants in the United States, charreria , as the sport is known, is not far behind. There are about 100 amateur charro associations nationwide, 40 in California, and several as far north as Chicago.

For some second- and third-generation Mexican Americans, charreadas are a way to preserve their heritage. Manuel Escobedo, a charreada organizer for the Pico Rivera Sports Arena, said charreria has helped his 16-year-old son, Estevan, develop a sense of identity away from the narcotic pull of gangs. He believes that there are undertones of racism in the crusade against charreadas.

“The Americans are trying to take away one of the greatest Mexican traditions,” he said. “Sure, animals are hurt in charreadas, and sometimes they die, but those are accidents.

“Plenty of horses die (at racetracks) but no one has complained about that like this. Those horses suffer much more, but never has there been a movement against horse racing like the one against us.”

Animal rights activists argue that the manganas and other charreada events are not ranch work, but entertainment based upon the suffering of the performers--akin to feeding Christians to the lions, bearbaiting and bullfighting--and cannot be defended as culture or tradition.

“When a charro throws a lasso and knocks down a 600-pound animal going 25 m.p.h., it is a knowing act of cruelty,” said Cathleen Doyle of the Ark Trust, a Los Angeles-based animal rights group. “It’s a cultural anachronism that serves no purpose.”

In the mangana, horsemen chase a wild mare around the ring while a charro, either on foot or in the saddle, performs a series of rope tricks before flinging the rope at the mare’s front legs. Sometimes the horses tumble on their sides, sometimes their legs buckle, sometimes they fall forward, twisting their necks.

Activists are also opposed to the coleadero , in which a horsemen sends a steer tumbling by yanking its tail--a popular method of downing cattle during the 16th Century. The steer’s tail is sometimes severed in the struggle.

Each event is painstakingly judged, and the slightest error--raising a leg twice instead of once while yanking down a steer, looking toward the sky or losing a sombrero--can be the difference between winning and losing a competition.

Animal rights groups like to point out that for many horses, the charreada is just one last gruesome stop on the way to slaughter. Every year, thousands of unwanted pets and racehorses are sold to brokers known as “killers,” who ship the animals to the 10 USDA-inspected equine slaughterhouses in Texas. The killers often rent horses awaiting shipment for slaughter to charros for the suertes, usually at a rate of $65 to $75 a day.

Last year, the Alameda County Board of Supervisors passed an ordinance banning horse tripping and the “tailing” of steers, and the Contra Costa County Board of Supervisors is considering a similar measure. Animal rights groups have protested outside charreada arenas across the state, causing one of the largest charreada sponsors, Wrangler jeans, to withdraw its advertising at the events.

But a previous attempt to ban horse tripping statewide failed last year.

Assemblyman Joe Baca (D-San Bernardino) withdrew his horse-tripping bill after members of the Committee on Agriculture proposed amendments--suggested by charro, cattle and rodeo organizations--that he thought would water down the law.

Instead of banning horse tripping, the amendments sought to legalize manganas under a series of restrictions, such as requiring a veterinarian to inspect animals before and after the charreada for injuries, and softening the dirt inside the rodeo arena to cushion the horse’s fall.

The cowboy counterpart of the charro federations, the Pro Rodeo Cowboy’s Assn., testified against Baca’s horse-tripping bill, but chose to remain neutral this year. T. J. Walters, the group’s director of administration, believes the animal rights groups want to build on the momentum of the horse-tripping bill to ban calf roping in American rodeos--but he feels no kinship with charros, and sees no reason to look after the interests of charreria .

The charros are not without allies, however. Los Angeles City Councilman Richard Alatorre said he supports the charreria , because it is a part of Mexican American culture and a traditional form of family entertainment.

“I think the impetus (to ban horse tripping) was prompted not by what is the norm, but by some renegade groups that made it seem like charros are unsympathetic to the welfare of animals, which could not be further from the truth,” he said. “The charro associations are willing to compromise, but these groups are not willing to negotiate, and I don’t think that’s fair.”

Assemblyman John Burton (D-San Francisco), author of the current horse-tripping legislation, AB 2537, said he believes the practice is barbaric, plain and simple, and wants it outlawed altogether.

“The argument is made that the event somehow doesn’t injure horses,” he said. “It isn’t like horses are acrobats that can take that kind of a fall without injury.”

Meanwhile, the animal rights activists maintain that they are not interested in doing away with the charreada altogether--they just want the mangana removed.

The charros counter that removing any one suerte compromises a rich tradition--one that outsiders do not understand. Vaca recalls with distaste how his peers, dressed in trajes de charro, went to Sacramento last year to lobby against the horse-tripping bill, only to be asked to sing and dance.

The charreada must remain intact, he says, and charros will fight to preserve it.

“It’s a beautiful thing for us,” Vaca said. “And we’ll defend it no matter what.”