Zedillo’s Democracy Is a Sham

The contradiction between President Ernesto Zedillo’s elusive democratic commitments and his authoritarian resilience have again become evident in his response to the sudden appearance of the People’s Revolutionary Army (EPR), a mysterious guerrilla group responsible for hit-and-run attacks in several Mexican states last week.

In the only passionate moment of his 90-minute state of the nation speech Sunday, he justified the pursuit of a military solution to the crisis by arguing that “in Mexico, political power is disputed with the rules of democracy.”

The only problem with this argument, of course, is that the “rules of democracy” still don’t apply in Mexico. The regime of the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), which has ruled Mexico for 70 years, still will not accommodate the alternation of power. And Zedillo can hardly substantiate the notion that nobody is above the law when, during his tenure, high-level corruption remains rampant and the assassinations of top political figures remain unsolved.

Despite the optimism of PRI supporters that recent electoral reforms confirm the arrival of democracy, most of the skeptical public sees Mexico as trapped in a twilight zone of false appearances. They regard Zedillo as the latest in a long line of quasi-monarchical successors to power, a tragic incarnation of Mexico’s political ambivalence and double standards with regard to democracy.

The electoral reforms create what appears to be a level playing field for all parties competing in elections. This includes the establishment of a supposedly independent electoral commission to verify voting results. Nevertheless, the ruling elite retains full control of the state and enjoys unrestrained access to public resources to manipulate or simply force the behavior of voters through bribery, jobs and subsidies (or their denial). The ruling party either controls, or has privileged access to, the media. Most important, perhaps, it possesses a monopoly of law enforcement.

As an independent member of Congress who sits on a committee investigating corruption, I know from experience that PRI officials use their power to silence, isolate or punish unwanted opposition. They alone decide how far power sharing should go. Corruption, with the complicity of high officials, remains beyond the arm of law enforcement.

Despite his frequent rhetorical claims, Zedillo has not instituted any real mechanisms of accountability. He has not freed Congress and the judiciary from the bondage of political patronage and, with the exception of isolated moves against certain powerful individuals such as Raul Salinas, the former president’s brother, Zedillo is acting as a faithful guardian of the beneficiaries of the old system.

Zedillo appears weak and indecisive in using the traditional powers of his office to promote political reform. But when faced with the pressing need to grant immunity to party allies, or to put himself above the law in legislative investigations, he goes beyond the call of duty.

In short, there is ample evidence that each and every one of the reforms instituted by Zedillo is seen by him as a move to preserve power, not to transform Mexico into a democratic system bound by the rule of law.

After 70 years of looting, there are plenty of ugly skeletons that must be hidden in the closet of impunity. It is for this reason that it is inconceivable that the PRI will simply give up control in a fair election. In such a context, the president can hardly claim the moral or political right to use force against the EPR.

Clearly, there is not enough room in Mexico’s incipient political openings to accommodate the people’s demands--demands as small as clean drinking water in the villages of Guerrero, where the guerrillas struck.

Hit-and-run guerrilla attacks on police stations don’t make a social revolution and will not help Mexicans break out of poverty and injustice. But neither will the military might of the Mexican state placate the anger and frustration of the poor.

Whether this radical new guerrilla force is the Aztec version of Peru’s Sendero Luminoso, a sinister pantomime run from behind the scenes by obscure forces opposing democracy, or merely out-of-touch desperadoes, the causes of Mexico’s violent troubles are clear: corruption and government intolerance of pluralism.

No matter who the EPR are, they come as a loud and clear signal of the breakdown of political authority. Only a comprehensive transition program agreed upon by the old regime and the organized opposition can avoid the tragic meltdown of political peace in Mexico.

The transitions in Chile and in South Africa are the best models applicable to the Mexican situation. Zedillo has flatly rejected the notion of any such “transition” that involves comprehensive negotiation with the opposition, speaking only of the need to “perfect existing democracy.”

The EPR attacks are yet one more sign that time has run out for Mexico’s archaic political system. Any chance of a stable transition to democracy is rapidly diminishing. This should be understood both in Los Pinos, where the president hides from Mexico’s realities, as well as in the United States, where his strongest allies reside.