Mayor’s Circus in Exalted Square Causes an Uproar in Mexico City

In the vast plaza known as the Zocalo, at the center of this madhouse megalopolis, you can now hear the roar of tigers along with the bells of a 16th century Roman Catholic cathedral.

A lot goes on at once in the square, and little escapes notice. A throbbing kaleidoscope of activity, the Zocalo is often held up by pundits as a mirror of Mexico’s character, a snapshot of the national condition.

Last week, Mayor Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador, whose office overlooks a corner of the square, added a tall blue-and-white tent to the mix. He surrendered part of the Zocalo, for the first time in its nearly five centuries of existence, to a circus.

Tens of thousands of Mexicans have lined up for free, twice-daily performances since the Vazquez Brothers Circus opened Aug. 4 for a 10-day run. But the main event--featuring two tigers and a giraffe, plus a lineup of clowns, acrobats and jugglers--has spun off a sideshow of political controversy, putting the popular 48-year-old mayor on the spot.

Opposition members of the City Council have been unable to resist comparing Lopez Obrador, an undeclared candidate for Mexico’s 2006 presidential race, to the Roman emperors who wooed the masses with “bread and circuses.”

Other critics say he is offending the dignity of Mexico City’s already crumbling historic district with a banal spectacle and a row of portable toilets. Opposition lawmakers have filed complaints accusing the mayor of violating statutes against outdoor commerce in the Zocalo, animal spectacles in a public thoroughfare and use of public funds for political campaigning.

“He is trying to turn the country, along with its cultural symbols, into a circus,” said Homero Aridjis, a prominent Mexican environmental activist. “The Zocalo is not only the historic center of our city, it’s the brain and heart of Mexican culture.”

Because the mayor hails from the Gulf state of Tabasco, Aridjis added, “perhaps he does not understand this.”

Lopez Obrador, whose approval rating stands at 64%, points out that Paris stages a popular circus every two years at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. He has offered to move the Big Top if its location in the Zocalo is ruled illegal.

Meanwhile, he is urging his critics to lighten up.

“I remember, when I was a boy, when the circus used to come to my town,” he told reporters. “You’ve got to look at life from a different point of view. Life is happiness. You’ve got to have a sense of humor, of fun.

“It’s better than a political circus,” he added. “It’s a circus that’s entertaining children and families.”

Voting with their feet, Mexicans have been lining up for hours at a time for circus tickets, even though some said they agree with the mayor’s critics.

“To be honest, I don’t like the idea of a circus in the Zocalo,” said Carmen Martinez, 37, who brought her 2-year-old daughter. “It’s ugly. That tent looks out of place here. But the truth is, it’s a good opportunity for those with little money to enjoy a summer day. It’s well worth the wait.”

Mexico City’s 18 million people have enough woes--kidnapping, pollution, traffic--that cry out for escape. The city endured a subway strike Thursday that affected hundreds of thousands of commuters and is torn by controversy over the mayor’s $900-million plan, to be put before voters next month, to add an upper deck above 18 miles of roadways.

In the Zocalo--a 14-acre expanse of stone paving surrounded by the cathedral, the National Palace and city government buildings--homeless, landless and jobless people held more than half a dozen mini-demonstrations at once Friday, seeking various redresses from City Hall. Each group had its own microphone.

The cacophony canceled out the individual demands and faded into the buzz of excitement among those lined up outside the Vazquez Brothers’ four-story-high tent.

“Sure, the circus is a distraction,” said Pedro Juarneros, 46, a street sweeper who traveled for two hours with his wife and two small children from their home on the edge of the capital. “The mayor is putting on a circus so people don’t worry about the lack of jobs, decent schools and transportation. He should be spending the money on these problems instead.”

Then Juarneros turned to a circus official who was passing by and demanded to know why there were no more free tickets for the evening’s performance.

The official, Omar Cruz Acosta, explained that tickets were being given away at a city office several miles from the Zocalo. There, people learned, half the 1,700 tickets handed out for each performance were reserved for city employees, who owe their jobs to Lopez Obrador’s left-leaning Democratic Revolution Party.

Mexican President Vicente Fox’s conservative National Action Party has called for an investigation into the circus, calling it a campaign event to help the mayor’s party in next year’s midterm congressional elections. City Hall says it has spent $10,000 to defray the Vazquez Brothers’ costs.

The electoral fortunes of Lopez Obrador and his party will depend on more than entertainment. The mayor has pledged to rescue the historic district from squatters, hawkers and thugs who have proliferated after years of urban flight--a process that accelerated in the early 1980s when the Mexican president’s office moved from the National Palace to Los Pinos a few miles away.

Lopez Obrador has dedicated about $55 million to start restoration work in a 30-block area around the Zocalo. In a walking tour Thursday, he assured shopkeepers that he had set a December deadline for chasing off an estimated 5,000 illegal sidewalk vendors, many of them plying stolen goods.

But with the circus underway, street vendors have drifted into the Zocalo to push their wares on people lined up outside the tent.

“The mayor is undermining his own authority,” Aridjis said. “What is happening to the Zocalo is what is happening to Mexico. It used to be kind of sacred, a symbol of a more orderly country. Now it’s a scene of political conflict ... disorder, insecurity, noise and a lack of government authority.”