Anti-Blackness in Mexican Popular Culture

A Racist Lullaby: Anti-Blackness in Mexican Popular Culture

By Jesús F. Cháirez-Garza

Content warning: The text makes reference to racist stereotypes. While I don’t show images in the text, there are hyperlinks to some of the images, which are offensive in nature, that are referred to in the essay.

The murder of George Floyd and the recent protests in the US surrounding the Black Lives Matter movement have produced a ripple effect throughout the world. Many countries across Latin America, Mexico included, have shown their support to the cause. However, while signs of solidarity are always welcomed, these events have illustrated once again that a majority of Mexicans seem more comfortable supporting anti-racists fights when these occur beyond its borders. In other words, Mexico thinks of anti-Blackness as a foreign problem that does not relate to its political and social history. But is this really the case? The answer is a hard no and this issue is particularly visible if one takes a look to Mexican popular culture.    

Anti-Blackness and racism are topics that are rarely explored in Mexican media. The reasons for this are plenty but perhaps the most important is the nationalist narrative of mestizaje (miscegenation), which has supposedly resulted in the racial unity of all Mexicans. Traditionally mestizaje in Mexico has functioned as tool of inclusion that celebrates the mixture between the Indigenous populations with the Spanish conquistadores. Children learn about mestizaje during their primary school years. Every 12^th of October, which marks the day Columbus arrived to the Americas, schools around the country hold assemblies to commemorate ‘el día de la raza’ (day of the race), cementing the colonial encounter as central to race-making in Mexico. Although it celebrates racial mixture, mestizaje can also be understood as a tool of exclusion that privileges ‘mestizo’ heritage and renders invisible Mexicans with African, Chinese, Japanese or Filipino origins, among many others. Additionally, by claiming that everyone in Mexico is mixed, mestizaje is often used to negate the existence of settler colonialism, racism and to uphold white supremacist power structures. While there are plenty of stories of how mestizaje has been used to erase and ‘whiten’ the lives of Afro-Mexicans within nationalist narratives (think of the changing portraits of President Vicente Guerrero), here I will examine some recent cases on how anti-Blackness openly operates in Mexican popular culture. To illustrate this, I provide examples coming from publicity campaigns, children’s folk songs and TV comedy shows. 

Like any other country in the world, Mexico lives under a racial code that defines many of the daily interactions that individuals have with other people. Mexicans learn that code from childhood, often without even realizing it, through words and actions that show people where they stand in a society structured through a racial order. Take for example common pet names, such as güera (blonde) or prieta (dark one), used within family circles. Although these terms can be used in a loving and affectionate manner, the people referred to in this way learn how to differentiate themselves on the basis of their skin tone not only in their household but also in their interactions with society in general. These coded racial terms stick to the bodies of individuals and in their minds. Through these codes, people place themselves within a variety of social situations and they can even anticipate the behaviour that others may show towards them. Racially coded concepts such as güera or prieta acquire greater relevance through their continuous dissemination via popular culture and the media. For instance, despite the notion that everyone is a mestizo, the people represented in Mexican TV shows are overwhelmingly white. Thus, while people with lighter skin might feel included within national life (or aspire to participate in a television program), those with darker skin might feel that their lives and problems are not worthy to be included in popular culture.

Lack of media representation is not the only problem. When the media portrays Black or Brown people, it’s often done through damaging stereotypes in which a darker skin colour is associated with poverty, laziness or lack of intelligence. An example of this may be the recent controversy of the media campaign deployed by the department store SEARS in which Indigenous models were used as virtual accessories of ‘stylish’ white women. Yet, stereotypes do not affect everyone equally and, in Mexico, groups with an Indigenous or an African background have been historically the most impacted by this. These negative stereotypes have a long history that can be traced to colonial times. The infamous ‘casta paintings’ of the 18^th Century, which attempted to classify and rank the different castes of New Spain according to their blood purity are a good example of this. These paintings show couples of a different racial heritage and the offspring resulting from their mix. Everyone in the picture would be tagged with their respective caste so a depiction could claim that the mix from an ‘Español’ and an ‘India’ gives a ‘Mestizo’. These paintings were far from innocent. While white people are portrayed with an elegant couture, Brown or Black people are shown with rags or ready to engage in menial labour. Perhaps the most disturbing elements of the casta paintings is that the term used for specific castas implied a regression to a more animalistic life. For instance, the casta painting claimed that the mix between a ‘Chino’ and an ‘India’ gave a ‘Salto Atrás’ (Literally ‘A step back’); while the mix between a ‘Salto Atrás’ and a Mulata’ gave a ‘Lobo’ (a Wolf). In other words, since colonial times people with an African or Indigenous heritage were seen as lesser humans.       

Racial stereotypes against Afro-Mexicans are still widespread in popular culture. In a similar case to the recent controversy surrounding the depiction of ‘Aunt Jemima’ by Quaker, the Mexican owned BIMBO, one of the largest baking companies in the world, has been responsible for disseminating stereotypes of Black people as a marketing strategy for at least two of their products — BIMBO’s Toast and Negrito BIMBO (now Nito). This is not a small affair. BIMBO is one of the most powerful companies in the continent and its distribution network reaches most countries in the Americas (US and Canada included) and even Europe. BIMBO’s marketing campaigns are very visible across multiple media platforms. Yet, the way BIMBO has advertised its products is quite problematic and shows how anti-Blackness has gone unchallenged for a long time in Mexico.

For instance, during the 1990s BIMBO began to promote their toasted bread by playing with racist humor. The TV commercials used to promote this product featured an Afro-descendant actor whose presence was used was used as a punchline for a joke. The premise of the publicity campaign claimed that unlike white bread, this new product ‘was born toasted’.  The Black actor then delivered the tagline of the product: ‘Bimbo Toasted Bread: The bread that is born toasted, like me’. This was not the only problematic marketing strategy deployed by BIMBO. The advertising associated with the product ‘Negrito BIMBO’, a chocolate covered pastry, also displayed highly offensive racial stereotypes. Once again, during the early 1990s, BIMBO released a TV campaign that featured children in ‘blackface’ on a set full of shacks and huts. This campaign lasted for decades and it was not until very recently that the name ‘Negrito BIMBO’ was replaced by ‘Nito’ (a sort of contraction of the original word). However, instead of abandoning stereotypes associated with Black people altogether, the new marketing strategy created for Nito features a cartoon of a ‘cool’ young man wearing Afro-style hair. The anti-Blackness of these commercials is evident. While the link between BIMBO’S Toast and Black people assumes that whiteness is the norm (since it implies that Brown or Black skin has been ‘overcooked or toasted’), the Negrito BIMBO assigns characteristics of savagery to an entire population.

Stereotypes like the ones used by BIMBO are common in Mexico, however, there is one particular image that stands out above the rest, the Sambo. While the Sambo is mainly associated with U.S. racist iconography, the way in which Afro-Mexicans have been portrayed in the media are almost identical. The iconography associated with the Sambo, usually presents him as a cheeky and happy character despite his enslaved condition. Although the Sambo is an adult man, he is portrayed as a perpetual child: docile, lazy and spending his days eating watermelons. While the Sambo at times could behave in an insolent manner, he was never malicious and it was up to the white man to correct such misbehaviour. In other words, in the Sambo iconography, it’s the white man’s role to become the protector of the masses and the moral compass of society. Similarly, it’s only through the generosity and constant corrections of the white man towards the Sambo that the latter can turn into a good person. Such racial stereotype is one of the classic misrepresentations of Afro-Mexicans. The Sambo stereotype is so widespread that it can be found in the work of children’s song composer Cri Crí, in comic books such as Memín Pinguín (subject of an international controversy) and in popular ‘comedic’ TV characters such as Tomás, portrayed by one of the most famous Mexican comedians in recent history, Héctor Suárez.

Let’s start with the songs written by Francisco Gabilondo Soler, a.k.a. Cri Crí. Soler is perhaps the biggest name in Mexico when it comes to music marketed for children. Despite his passing in 1990, Cri Crí’s albums continue to be sold to this day and his songs are almost always a staple in school festivals. With a catalogue of almost 300 songs, I should clarify that my intention here is not to establish whether Cri Crí was racist or not, rather I will show how anti-Blackness and the iconography of the Sambo have been disseminated in Mexico. Cri Crí has ​​three songs where references to Black people are made: El Negrito Bailarín, Negrito Sandía and La Negrita Cucurumbé. Of these three melodies, only the last one attempts to normalize Blackness. The central theme of this songs is that ‘Cucurumbé’ should not try to whiten her skin with the waves of the sea as she is beautiful just the way she is. The story with the other two songs is quite different. For example, the song of El Negrito Bailarin (the Little Black Dancer) tells the story of a tin toy that dances by winding it up. The description of the toy (de bastón y con bombín / using a cane and wearing a bombin hat) resembles those of the minstrel shows or the Black Dandy, which made fun of the image of the bodies of Afro-descendants, their customs and their clothing. Despite the fact that he is singing about a toy, Cri Crí attributes the characteristics of the Sambo to the ‘Negrito Bailarín’. The narrator in the song reprimands the toy for his bad behaviour and claims:

‘Hey amigo, lo compré / Hey friend, I bought you

Para verlo bailar a usted / So I could watch you dance

Perozo mueva los pies / Slothful, move your feet

In the ‘Negrito Sandía’ (Watermelon Black Man), Cri Crí uses the image of the Sambo again in a more explicit way. El Negrito Sandía tells the story of a lépero (bad mouthed, rude) character who has to be constantly corrected by Cri Crí. After Cri Crí’s accusation of using a colourful vocabulary, Negrito Sandía is reprimanded by his aunt who whips him with a stick. In the song, this makes Cri Crí laugh:

Con el palo que utiliza   / With the stick she uses

El castigo te horroriza / You are horrified of the punishment

Y después de la paliza / And after the beating

Me voy a morir de risa / I will die of laughter

The image of Sambo as the perpetual child is revealed again in one of the song’s final verses. Cri Crí affirms that despite being older, El Negrito will continue with his inappropriate behaviour even when he has to appear in society or attends a formal event:

El día que seas mayor de edad / The day you are of legal age

Si te presentas en sociedad / If you perform in society,

Serás grosero y descortés / You will be rude and impolite

Cuando discutas con un Marqués / When you argue with a Marquis.

Assuming the role of the moral compass of the Negrito Sandía, Cri Crí warns him that he should stop saying nonsense and doing mischief or ‘you will see’ how his punishment goes.

The image of the Sambo, as a badly spoken and rogue character also had a space on prime-time national television through the character of Tomás. Characterized by Héctor Suárez in Blackface style, the character of Tomás took the stereotypes associated with Afro-Mexicans to the extreme. Tomás was not only represented as a poor child from a tropical area, the character was also animalized as his walk (waving his arm above his head) seemed to emulate that of a chimpanzee. Tomás’ sketches revolved around jokes that this character told to his mother (portrayed by another man in drag and in blackface). The formula for the sketches was always the same. Tomás told riddles that were interpreted by his mother as rude jokes or with sexual overtones. However, after being unfairly scolded, Tomás clarified that the riddle had no sexual innuendos and it was his mother, ‘La Negra’, the one with the problem. This is problematic for at least two reasons. First, Black women are portrayed as hypersexual beings that even confuse an innocent riddle with a dirty joke. Second, the classic punchline with which Tomás clarifies the confusion in the sketch is a denial of his Blackness. After accusing his mother of having a “dirty and filthy mind”, Tomás pronounces his innocence by claiming: “The child is white and pure”. The sketches then suggest that Tomás’s innocent behaviour is so unusual, for the misconceptions that Mexicans have about Blackness that it’s supposed to be funny.

As it can be seen, anti-Blackness in Mexico has been normalised. Racial depictions have been used to keep people in place. To change this attitudes, a critical act of introspection into Mexican culture and popular history is required. Not only explicit racism will have to be challenged, but also the privileges that come with ideas like whiteness or mestizaje will have to be deconstructed. This is particularly important because despite the cruelness of explicit racial stereotypes, perhaps the most dangerous side of anti-Blackness is the erasure of the history of Afro-descendants in Mexico. Without the recognition of such history, racial injustices will go unchallenged. The engagement with these type of representations can open up paths to destroy the structures of privilege by exposing how identities such as Mestizo, Latino or Mexican are charged with racial meanings. The point is not to compare whether Mexico is more or less racist than other countries, but how to make the country a more just and equitable society for everyone. This of course is not an easy feat, as becoming a true anti-racist is a daily fight against our privileges and our way of life.

Ambedkar and the Production of Anthropological Knowledge

What can Ambedkar’s experience of untouchability tell us about the history of anthropology or sociology in India? In what way does caste and untouchability affect the production of anthropological knowledge? In the corpus of work analysing Ambedkar’s life and ideas, these are rarely explored questions. To shed some light on this often overlooked issue, I explore Ambedkar’s involvement in the Depressed Classes and Aboriginal Tribes (Starte) Committee set up by the Government of Bombay in 1928. After two years touring the presidency and gathering evidence about the social condition of Dalits and Adivasis, the committee published a report with recommendations on how to bring these communities into the mainstream of Indian society. As we shall see, Ambedkar encountered both practical and ideological obstacles while carrying research for the committee. On a practical level, and despite being one of the most educated people in India at the time, Ambedkar had to organize his research trips to conform to caste practices which restricted not only his movement but also limited the access he had to particular communities. On an ideological level, even though the report reflects a strong influence of his thought, Ambedkar’s findings on the question of untouchability were challenged and opposed by other members of the committee. The opposition against Ambedkar’s findings was so strong the report had to be published alongside a note of dissent. While today the report is largely forgotten, taking a fresh look and pairing it with Ambedkar’s private papers, reveals some of the difficulties of carrying out fieldwork and producing anthropological or sociological knowledge as a member of a marginalized community in India.

Before analysing the obstacles Ambedkar encountered while doing research, a brief contextualization of the committee is in order. The initiative to form this body arose after Dr. P.G. Solanki moved a resolution in Bombay’s Legislative Council to ‘enquire into the educational, economic and social conditions of the Depressed Classes (untouchables) and of the Aboriginal Tribes in the Presidency and to recommend measures for their uplift’. The resolution was approved and shortly after a panel conformed by specialists on the topics of Dalits and Adivasis was appointed. For instance, the chairman of the panel was O.H.B. Starte, a renowned colonial penologist who was in charge of the rehabilitation of prisoners and ‘settlement’ initiatives of the so called ‘Criminal Tribes’. A.V. Thakkar, known for his ‘isolationist/protectionist’ approach towards Adivasis, was another member of the panel. P.G. Solanki and B.R. Ambedkar, both nominated representatives of the Depressed Classes in the Legislative Council, were also appointed among a few others.  

While Solanki and Ambedkar were the only Members of the Legislative Council with a Dalit background, they were not token representatives. In fact, both of them were some of the most prepared individuals in the inquiry panel. Solanki was a bright medical doctor who fought in favour of Dalit political rights since his youth. He would have a successful career in politics and became one of Ambedkar’s closest collaborators. On his part, at this time, Ambedkar was not only one of the most educated individuals in the whole of India, but also had experienced discrimination on the basis of untouchability and was already immersed in legal fights and satyagrahas to gain access for Dalits to temples and public water tanks. Furthermore, Ambedkar was a perfect candidate to carry out this type of research as he was very familiar with some of the most recent and influential anthropological ideas of this period.    

Ambedkar became interested in anthropological and sociological ideas during his time at Columbia University where he studied under Alexander Goldenweiser, a mentee of Franz Boas. It was there where Ambedkar became acquainted with anthropological concepts such as endogamy, taboo, totemism, isolation and social endosmosis. These ideas informed Ambedkar’s work throughout his life from his first publication on the genesis of the caste system in India, to his analysis of untouchability as a historical process. Unsurprisingly, some of these concepts can also be found in the report produced by the enquiry committee.

Ambedkar’s influence in the report is undeniable from the use of certain concepts he would develop throughout his career. For instance, one of the main findings of the committee was that the ‘Depressed Classes are obliged to live in a state of isolation from the rest of the [Hindu] Community’. According to the committee, such isolation, sustained by discrimination, violence and social boycott, prevented the ‘social osmosis’ or endosmosis of Dalits with the rest of Indian society. All of these concepts became common usage in Ambedkar’s writings and works both before and after the publication of this report. For instance, as shown by scholars such as Arun P. Mukherjee and Daniel Elam, the term endosmosis was picked up by Ambedkar from John Dewey during his time at Columbia and even appeared in ‘Annihilation of Caste’. Ambedkar also refers to the importance of social endosmosis in what was his first public appearance as an official Dalit representative, the Southborough (Franchise) Committee of 1919. The recommendations of the report also echoed Ambedkar’s views, as an emphasis on education and access to politics for Dalits were highlighted as key methods to resolve the inequality produced by untouchability. Emphasizing the importance of economic and political inequality, allowed the report to distinguish itself from previous efforts to abolish untouchability which highlighted Hindu reform. This, however, did not sit well with every member of the Committee.      

L.M. Deshpande was the main opponent of the way untouchability had been presented in the report. Deshpande was also a Member of the Legislative Council and had a conservative view of Hinduism. He was part of the All-India Varnashram Swarajya Sangha, an organization working for ‘Swaraj on truly Indian lines consistent with India’s dharmic ideals’. While it is unclear if Deshpande had any experience working with Dalits, his note of dissents reveals that his opposition to Ambedkar’s ideas were not due to methodological issues or errors in the collection of evidence. Rather, Desphande’s opposition against the report had to do with the person who was producing the knowledge, namely Ambedkar. Deshpande was convinced the report was biased and that much of the conflict regarding untouchability was due to the radical measures followed by Dalits to gain rights. He argued: ‘where there is action there is reaction and when some members of the Depressed Classes took some extreme steps for redressing their grievance the same was also sought to be kept down by the other extreme side’. When it came to use of water tanks, even though Desphande agreed this was a serious issue, he explained that Dalits were often responsible for not using the wells: ‘(1) because of fear, (2) because of the sub-caste among the Depressed Classes or (3) because there are many orthodox Depressed Classes who themselves do not like to use such common wells’. Finally, when it came to the education of Dalits, Deshpande claimed to support these measures but with one important caveat. Schools for Dalits were to incorporate teaching associated with occupations traditionally performed by Dalits. Deshpande suggested Dalits should get free education and scholarships to attend schools ‘teaching agricultural bias, another teaching weaving bias, third teaching rope-making and fourth, tanning and fourth teaching preparation of manure from hides and the like’. In other words, Desphande wanted to teach Dalits how to perform activities often associated with untouchability.

Interestingly, Deshpande did not offer any substantial evidence or alternative theories to support his observations; he also did not engage with the concepts of isolation or social endosmosis proposed by Ambedkar. Deshpande’s note of dissent speaks more to the nature on how knowledge production is restricted to certain groups in society, both in India and elsewhere, while other communities are restricted to become subjects of study. For Deshpande, Dalits were not supposed to propose methods for their ‘upliftment’, rather, they were to be helped. Deshpande was functioning as a gatekeeper of anthropological and sociological knowledge while reproducing towards Dalits, the paternalistic gaze colonial ethnographers had towards Indians. In Deshpande’s view, Dalits were recipients of knowledge, passive subjects waiting to be studied. When Ambedkar’s analysis placed Hindus under scrutiny and as responsible for the discrimination suffered by Dalits, challenging practices of knowledge production and reversing the anthropological gaze, Deshpande objected the report. These challenges to his knowledge were not new for Ambedkar and he would continue to encounter them throughout his life, Gandhi’s claim to speak for Dalits and knowing what was best for this groups is perhaps the most famous example of this. Yet, this was not the only challenge faced by Ambedkar during his time working for the Starte Committee.

Inspired by the work of Harold H. Mann in the Deccan, the Starte Committee decided to visit a few ‘typical villages’ in the Bombay Presidency, which presented a problem for Ambedkar. Indeed, Ambedkar’s private correspondence reveals mobility and access were some the main challenges to carry out research as a Dalit. The reason for this has to do with the way caste keeps people in place. In a society ordered by caste, Dalits are not only excluded from positions of power but are literally excluded from physical spaces. In the case of Ambedkar, this posed important questions: Could a Dalit access Brahmin informants in villages? Could a Dalit be recognised as a researcher and move within villages freely?  How does a Dalit do to access informants in places where his own movement is policed and restricted?

Ambedkar found out the answer to these questions in an unpleasant way. In 1929, as part of his work for the Committee, Ambedkar travelled to the village of Chalisgaon ‘to investigate a case of social boycott which had been declared by the caste Hindus against the untouchables of that village’. At this time, Ambedkar was already gaining some recognition as a Dalit leader as he was also involved in the organization of Dalit satyagrahas and burning of the Manusmriti a few years prior. Due to this reason, Ambedkar’s visit to Chalisgaon did not go unnoticed. After arriving in the train station, Ambedkar found a party of local Dalits who garlanded him and invited him to the Maharwada. Ambedkar accepted the invitation but found himself waiting for a long time. After an hour or so, a tonga arrived to transport Ambedkar to his destination. The problem, however, was yet to come. After a few minutes on the ride, Ambedkar found himself hitting the ground after the horse pulling the tonga bolted: ‘So heavy was the fall that I lay down senseless…As a result of this I received several injures. My leg was fractured, and I was disabled for several days. I could not understand how all this happened’.[1]  Ambedkar would later find out the reason behind the accident was the inexperience of the driver. After the tongawalas in the village refused to have Ambedkar as a passenger, the Mahars of Chalisgaon were able to rent a tonga on the condition of driving the cart themselves. Ambedkar remembered the argument in the following way: ‘To save my dignity, the Mahars of Chalisgaon had put my very life in jeopardy. It is then I learnt that a Hindu tongawalla, no better than a menial, has a dignity by which he can look upon himself as a person who is superior to all untouchables even though he may be a Barrister-at-law’. Due to space limits, I cannot expand more into this episode but it’s important to highlight how Ambedkar’s movement was restricted and confined to the will of the village caste Hindus.

To conclude, Ambedkar’s experience in the Starte Committee leaves us with more questions than answers about who is able to practice anthropology (in India and elsewhere). Perhaps one of the most important questions is something we need to constantly ask ourselves and others: If someone like Ambedkar, a Member of the Legislative Council on official business, cannot travel to a Maharwada without risking bodily harm, how could marginalized individuals study and access communities beyond their own?

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Threads on M.N. Srinivas

Hi again! This week @WithinOther will be tweeting about MN #Srinivas, 1 of the most important anthropologists in the history of India. We’ll cover some of the most important aspects of Srinivas’s education, career and legacy. #twitterstorians #OtherfromWithin

#Srinivas (1916-199) was part of the first generation of anthropologists in independent India. He study at the University of #Bombay and the #Oxford. Later, Srinivas taught in different places such as Oxford, the University of Delhi and MS University of Baroda among others

#Srinivas academic genealogy came from #Durkheim, #RadcliffeBrown and #EvansPritchard Thus he was influenced by #functionalism and sought to describe how the different parts of societies worked together as an organism.

#Srinivas was skeptical of armchair anthropologists and, like Malinowski, advocated for long term fieldwork as the only way to really understand how societies worked. Anthropologist were to be trained in local languages and depend on their own observations rather than informants

The work of #Srinivas is important as during his lifetime, mainstream anthropology began to look to #Africa and #India was neglected as a field of study. He coined important concepts that shaped Indian social sciences and history such as #Sanskritization but that comes tomorrow..

Hi #twitterstorians! This is the second installment on #Srinivas. Today we focus on his concept of #sanskritization
which was key in the development of Indian #anthropology and #sociology.This is part of our history of concepts. @UoMhistdept @LeedsUniHistory @CSMCH_Edin #AHRC

#Srinivas coined the term #sanskritization in the late 1940s and early 1950s while researching the Coorgs of South India. #Sankritization was used as a way to explain how certain groups like the Lingayats of Karnataka had move up in a caste structure that was supposed to be fixed

The main idea behind #sanskritization is that lower castes groups imitate and adopt Sanskritic culture and values. Along with economic and political power, eventually, #sanskritization would translate into ritual power too. This would make lower caste groups to move up socially

#Sanskritization then appears as a remnant of early anthropological ideas such as #diffusionism and #acculturation that traced how culture spread throughout the world. The difference is that #Srinivas was looking only into India. In some ways it was a challenge to #westernization

While #Sankritization was innovative it was not entirely original. Several anthropologists have been looking to explain the dominance of Brahmanism in India. In fact, #Ambedkar during his time @Columbia wrote about ‘the infection of imitiation’ during his classes w/ #Goldenweiser

#Goldenweiser was a disciple of #FranzBoas who was interested in acculturation too. While #sanskritization was well received by many Indian anthropologists it was also subject to strong criticism.

For instance, C. #Parvathamma probably the first Dalit woman Sociologist educated in @UoMhistdept under #MaxGluckman thought that #sanskritization was blind to the influence that lower caste people and culture had in India.

Despite such criticism, #Srivinivas impact in Indian anthropology and sociology is unquestionable. This is clear if one looks to the people we trained and the #classic works he produced but that will come on #Friday

Hi #twitterstorians this is part 3 of our thread on #Srinivas work. We focus on his views on #anthropology as a discipline linked to the nation. If you would like to see more about #Srinivas writings you can check our blog on #rememberedvillage 👇

The Remembered Village by M.N. SrinivasJesús F. Cháirez-Garza Yet, transition might be the best concept to describe The Remembered Village (1976) by M.N. Srinivas (1916-1999). Written from memory after an arson destroyed his fieldwork no…https://www.theotherfromwithin.com/post/the-remembered-village-by-m-n-srinivas

#Srinivas considered that #anthropology was a #colonial tool of governance that used used to ‘divide and rule’. His views on the #census as a political tool anticipated the views of scholars such as #Cohn and #Dirks

However, for #Srinivas this was a doubled edged sword. Indian nationalists used the categories politicized by colonial rulers to ‘discover’ India’s past and to create myths in the struggle for #independence

#Srinivas argued that #independence caused the professionalization of #anthropology and #sociology in India. These were to be used as a way to understand Indian political and social problems. For this, the disciplines needed to look inward and not to former colonial powers.

While #Srinivas was weary of the links between #anthropology the #state and #colonialism he believed that the function of social sciences were to inform governments about the complex nature of social relations in India.

In other words, #Srinivas was not as critical to the problematic role of #anthropology as a discipline linked to the State. For him it was clear that India had an #otherfromwithin that was to be transformed into a #citizen
@willgupshup @UoMhistdept @GarzaChairez @LeedsUniHistory

AMLO y su próxima visita a Estados Unidos

La próxima semana seremos testigos del primer viaje internacional de AMLO como presidente de México y será a los Estados Unidos. Esto nos sorprende pues durante dos años AMLO le ha hecho el feo a salir del país, ya sea para viajes personales u oficiales. El viaje no podía llegar en un peor momento pues las diferentes crisis por las que pasa el país siguen causando malestar a lo largo del territorio. Por ejemplo, la pandemia del COVID-19 sigue sin ser domada y no se vislumbra para cuando termine. La economía sigue en picada y los números de desempleados van en ascenso. De igual forma, los escándalos de corrupción han comenzado a pegar a los miembros del gabinete mientras que el narco y la violencia se han hecho presentes hasta en la capital del país. Sin embargo el momento ha llegado, AMLO ya no puede esperar más y viajará. La pregunta obligada es ¿por qué?

De acuerdo al propio AMLO, la razón de su visita tiene que ver con la entrada en vigor del T-MEC. Es decir, el mandatario que reniega cada mañana sobre el neo-liberalismo irá a festejar la nueva versión del tratado de libre comercio entre Estados Unidos, Canadá y México diseñado por la administración de Peña Nieto. La versión extra-oficial del viaje es que AMLO va a hacerle el caldo gordo a Trump en la lucha del último por ser reelecto como presidente. Esto no parece descabellado pues AMLO ha mostrado tener un punto débil cuando de Trump se trata. Por ejemplo, si bien aún no sabemos si México pagará o no por el muro fronterizo, AMLO plantó a la guardia nacional para detener a los migrantes al sur del país tras una petición de Trump. De igual forma, AMLO también aceptó recibir en México a los migrantes en busca de asilo político expulsados de Estados Unidos mientras se regulariza su estatus migratorio. Es decir, Cada vez que el estadounidense ha levantado la voz, AMLO concede sin chistar.

Incluso los temas agendados a discutir entre AMLO y Trump se muestran muy a modo para el último. Guiados por su campaña presidencial, uno esperaría que AMLO le plantara cara a Trump en algún tema pues aún tenemos fresco cómo AMLO criticó a Pena Nieto tras recibir al estadounidense en Los Pinos. Pero parece que esto no será así pues AMLO anunció que sólo le interesa hablar del T-MEC, de beisbol y del operativo Rápido y Furioso ocurrido durante la administración de Felipe Calderón y Barack Obama. En otras palabras, AMLO quiere hablar con Trump de algo en lo que ninguno de los dos tuvo que ver. En lugar de enfocarse en los retos que ambos pudieran enfrentar como el cómo resolver el COVID-19, AMLO prefiere ver hacia el pasado para buscar responsables de los problemas de su administración. Dicho discurso ya comenzó a desgastarse y comienza a cansar a más de uno.

Para empeorar las cosas es que hay un montón de temas que AMLO podría platicar con Trump que atañen a muchos mexicanos dentro y fuera del país. Por ejemplo, el mexicano podría discutir el tema de los dreamers, los jóvenes migrantes que buscan su naturalización en Estados Unidos. También podría tocar el tema de las paupérrimas condiciones en las que se encuentras los migrantes mexicanos detenidos por agentes fronterizos en dónde incluso hay muchas madres que se han visto despojadas de sus hijos sin explicación alguna. De igual manera, AMLO también podría pronunciarse en contra del racismo y la discriminación sufrida por muchos mexicanos y por qué no, manifestarse a favor del movimiento Black Lives Matter. Pero todo esto parece casi imposible pues AMLO ya anunció que no verá a ningún otro grupo político (ya sean demócratas, migrantes o dreamers) fuera de la agenda dictada por Trump. Más bien, para evitar ser cuestionado, AMLO, emulando a Fox, casi anunció que tras ver a Trump ‘come y se va’ de regreso a México. Ojalá y me equivoque.

Los hijos de la crisis y la violencia

 

En los años en los que crecí, los periódicos se referían a mi generación como los hijos de la crisis. La referencia en particular era a 1994 y la devaluación del peso que cambió las vidas de muchos en México. A pesar de tener los bolsillos vacíos, crecí en una ciudad tranquila y que hasta mi entender era segura. Nunca me sentí con miedo al andar en camión, caminar por la calle o al salir a un antro en la madrugada. Desde luego, mi experiencia no es universal pero al menos dentro de mi círculo más cercano tampoco era extraordinaria.

Ya más entrado en edad, Monterrey y el país comenzaron a cambiar. Si bien el mote de los hijos de la crisis había llegado para quedarse, a partir del 2006 además de sentir como la economía nos apretaba el cuello ahora también había que protegerse de la violencia. De pronto, la ciudad se fue llenando de inseguridad y plomo. Las calles olían a sangre, los puentes peatonales se llenaron de ahorcados y los pasos a desnivel de cuerpos decapitados. El golpe de la violencia fue tan severo que de repente la gente comenzó a sentirse agradecida porque no les pasó nada después de que los bajaran del coche con una pistola en la sien. Esas vivencias fueron normalizando la violencia en nuestras vidas. Tal cual como aprendimos a ahorrar y a ver el peso devaluarse, ahora ya nos habíamos acostumbramos a los balazos, a los secuestros y a vivir encerrados.

Por todas estas razones enoja que el gobierno, tanto el actual como los anteriores, sean parciales con el narco y los delincuentes. Molestan los mensajes que se mandan desde lo más alto en el poder. Fastidian los saludos a madres de asesinos cuando a muchas otras les toca llorar solas por los suyos. Pero lo que más jode es que al atrapar al hijo del capo más famoso del mundo se le deje ir usando como excusa la seguridad de la vida de los ciudadanos. Esto tiene dos consecuencias importantes y preocupantes. Primero, el poder ya mostró parcialidad por un cártel en específico. Por ejemplo, la reciente captura de los familiares del ‘Mencho’ se ha desenvuelto de manera muy diferente. Segundo, el dejar en libertad a un criminal por miedo a más violencia, simplemente muestra que el gobierno se quiebra con más violencia. El caso del Mencho (y probablemente también el atentado de hoy en contra de García Furch), de nueva cuenta, muestra lo dicho anteriormente.

Deseo de todo corazón, sea quien sea quien este en el gobierno, que la violencia se resuelva pronto. Hoy en día mi generación se sigue (y se seguirá) preocupando de la economía, la violencia y, por el momento, también de una pandemia. Yo espero que a mis hijos ya nos les toque el mote de niños de la crisis, sino el de la generación del cambio.

Ambedkar’s death

While doing research for an article about the political thought of Ambedkar, I came across, in one of my old files, a document dated on the 24th of June of 1957. The document in question is a newspaper article that was published in the Times of India. It covers perhaps one of the least known stories about Ambedkar, a controversy surrounding his death. With this brief commentary, I don’t intend to claim that Ambedkar died of something other than natural causes. Rather, I just want to share a brief description of this often forgotten event.

As it’s widely known, the final years of Dr. Ambedkar where quite difficult. He was highly overworked and had been suffering from diabetes for years. During this time, Ambedkar was in race against time. His goal was to write as much as possible as he felt that his health was not improving. Due to his condition, Ambedkar spent quite a lot of his time in isolation. The only people that had regular contact with him were his personal assistant, Nanak Chand Rattu, and his wife, Savita Ambedkar.

Ambedkar’s isolation was not seen with good eyes by his closest circle. They believed that Savita was trying to keep Dr Ambedkar away from his followers in order to control him. Savita replied that this was not her intention, but that Dr. Ambedkar was busy writing and needed to be left alone. Whether this is true or not it’s hard to say but Nanak Chand Rattu’s memories confirm that in his final days, Ambedkar only had one thing in his mind, the completion of The Buddha and His Dhamma.

The conflict between Ambedkar’s inner circle and his wife came to a boiling point on the 6th of December of 1956, the day when Dr. Ambedkar passed away. Ambedkar’s followers were saddened and dissapointed of losing their hero. They were also angry as they claimed that Savita had not taken proper care of Dr Ambedkar. Perhaps due to tremendous sorrow and as a way find an explanation about his death, rumors began to circulate about a possible poisoning of Ambedkar. To make things worst, a dispute was also brewing about what was to happen with the remains of the father of the constitution. In particular, Savita’s plans to cremate Ambedkar at Sarnath caused an uproar within his followers. They thought that such proposition went against the legacy of Dr. Ambedkar while it would also deprive his followers to saying goodbye to Babasaheb for one last time. In the end, Savita listened and Ambedkar’s body was taken to Bombay to be cremated.

While this might have been the end of the story, it wasn’t. B.C. Kamble and B.K. Gaikwad, along other members of the Scheduled Castes Federation wrote to Jawarharlal Nehru to demand an investigation surrounding Ambedkar’s death. After making a police enquiry, the Indian Government announced that Ambedkar had died of natural causes. However, Kamble and Gaikwad were not satisfied as the police refused to release an official report of the investigation. While there were no proofs against her, Ambedkar’s followers continued to blame Savita for the years to come.

The incident described above has been largely forgotten. Ambedkar’s legacy was and continues to be much larger than the causes behind his death. Yet, this type of event might help us to reflect and understand how communities cope with the loss of a beloved leader. This, of course, requires more research that hopefully will be completed in the days to come.

Cambio o inmutabilidad – AMLO y su discurso político

A principios de la década de los 70, el teórico brasileño de la educación Paulo Freire escribió el libro Pedadogía del Oprimido. En dicho texto, Freire propone que para la lograr la liberación de los pueblos es necesario un cambio educativo y una introspección crítica constante en todos los aspectos de nuestras vidas. Dicha introspección es un proceso doloroso y difícil pues implica cuestionar los privilegios con los que contamos como individuos ya sean económicos, raciales o de género, entre muchos otros. De igual forma, este acto de autocrítica también conlleva un análisis de cómo hemos internalizado métodos de opresión, cómo los ponemos en práctica y cómo los justificamos en nuestro accionar para mantener nuestro estilo de vida. Es decir, según Freire, un verdadero cambio social implica un cambio de fondo y total.

Las palabras y los cuestionamientos de Freire resuenan en parte con el discurso político de Andrés Manuel López Obrador. Tanto Freire como AMLO parecen cuestionar los privilegios de las personas más acomodadas en beneficio del oprimido y en pos de una sociedad más equitativa. Sin embargo, hay algo en el discurso de AMLO que no lograba articular hasta hace muy poco. Ese algo también es discutido por Freire y tiene que ver con el proceso de liberación ante un estado de opresión. Mientras que Freire propone la creación de una comunidad inquisitiva en la cual los miembros de dicho grupo trabajarán constantemente en conjunto para lograr la equidad, el discurso político de AMLO se centra en que sólo él posee las llaves para la emancipación de los pobres. Es decir, para AMLO el oprimido no puede liberarse por sí solo.

Este es la principal diferencia entre Freire y AMLO. Más que una receta en contra de la injusticia, Freire sugiere que los sistemas de opresión solo pueden deshacerse a través de un razonamiento crítico. Por ejemplo, Freire nos invita a cuestionarnos como las obras de filantropía y de caridad son usadas por billonarios capitalistas para limpiar su nombre y justificar la opresión y el maltrato que sus compañías generan en el mundo. Freire nos obliga a pensar si dichas obras de caridad sólo son posibles en un sistema político y social que da por sentado la pobreza como una constante. En otras palabras, el teórico brasileño pregunta si dichas obras de caridad buscan un cambio social o si realmente pretenden mantener el status quo. Para Freire, la respuesta a lo anterior no es sencilla. Tanto el oprimido como el opresor deben de darse cuenta de los problemas de la sociedad y trabajar día a día para lograr un cambio. Dicho cambio no es inmediato, llevará mucho tiempo, pues hemos internalizado tanto los sistemas de opresión que es casi imposible imaginar una sociedad diferente a la que vivimos. De igual forma, las respuestas para logar dicho cambio no son absolutas ni pertenecen a nadie. La liberación reside más bien en aprender a ser críticos y a cuestionar cada aspecto dentro de nuestras vidas. Es ahí donde se encuentra la principal diferencia que Freire y Andrés Manuel.

Sin duda, el discurso político de AMLO es atractivo. En la superficie parece abogar por una sociedad más justa y equitativa. Desde mi punto de vista, no hay nada de malo en que todos los mexicanos cuenten con acceso a educación, atención médica entre muchas otras de todas las necesidades humanas. No tengo ni una palabra en contra de dicha visión. Sin embargo, el problema con su discurso es que suena un tanto deshonesto pues en lugar de invitar a un cuestionamiento constante sobre cómo funciona la sociedad mexicana, AMLO prefiere ver a sus seguidores simplemente como eso, seguidores. Es decir, en lugar de buscar crear una comunidad inquisitiva, AMLO afirma en cada una de sus conferencias mañaneras que sólo él tiene las respuestas políticas para generar un cambio verdadero en México. No busca crear individuos con cuestionamientos, más bien quiere mantener una dependencia política y económica entre él y los suyos. Dichas contradicciones son evidentes pues si AMLO quisiera transformar a México podría empezar a gravar a los millonarios que más tienen (y que se sientan a su lado en las mañaneras) y no a la clase media del país. De manera similar, combatiría la corrupción dentro de su gabinete mismo y, en contraste con Freire, no presumiría que la transformación política y social en México ha sido inmediata tras su llegada a la presidencia. Un verdadero cambio político y social nunca estará concluido y siempre debería estará abierto a críticas y cuestionamientos, algo para lo que no hay espacio dentro de la cuatroté.

Anti-negritud en México

Advertencia de contenido: El texto hace referencia a estereotipos racistas. Mientras no uso imágenes en el texto se adjuntan vínculos a imágenes de contenido racista a las que se hacen referencia en el ensayo.

 

Anti-negritud en México 

El racismo y la anti-negritud son temas que poco se debaten en los medios populares en México. Las razones de esto son muchas pero una de las más influyentes es la narrativa nacionalista del mestizaje basada en la supuesta unión racial de todos los mexicanos. En México el mestizaje es considerado como una herramienta de inclusión que celebra la mezcla de los pueblos indígenas con los conquistadores españoles. En las escuelas los niños aprenden sobre el mestizaje y lo celebran el 12 de Octubre como el día de la raza. Sin embargo, como cualquier otra historia el mestizaje también tiene otra cara. En particular, el mestizaje ha sido utilizado en México como herramienta de exclusión para todo aquello no proveniente de un pasado indígena o europeo. Esto invisibiliza la presencia de Mexicanos con un origen diferente al ‘mestizo’, ya sea Africano, Chino, Japonés,  Filipino etc.  De igual forma, al predicar que todos en México somos mestizos, el mestizaje también funge como un método para perpetuar la blanquitud  en las estructuras de poder del país. Si bien hay un sinnúmero de historias de exclusión relacionadas con el mestizaje (por ejemplo las historias de Vicente Guerrero o José María Morelos y Pavón), en este escrito me enfocaré solo en algunos ejemplos relativamente recientes de cómo la anti-negritud ha operado abiertamente en la cultura popular mexicana. Para ilustrar lo anterior utilizo ejemplos de canciones infantiles, campañas publicitarias y  programas de comedia.

Como cualquier otro país en el mundo, México vive bajo un código racial que define muchas de nuestras interacciones diarias con otras personas. Dicho código lo aprendemos desde chicos, muchas veces sin darnos cuenta, a través de palabras y acciones que nos muestran dónde nos ubicamos en una sociedad estructurada a través de un orden racial. Tomemos por ejemplo apodos comunes como wera o prieta. Si bien, dentro de un círculo familiar estos términos pueden ser utilizados de forma cariñosa, las personas recipientes de estos adjetivos aprenden a diferenciarse entre ellas e identifican que las sociedad que los rodea también los percibe a través de estos calificativos. Es decir, el término wera o prieta no permanece en el círculo familiar sino que acompaña a los individuos cuando interactúan con el resto del mundo. Aún más, dichos términos adquieren mayor valor a través de la cultura popular y los medios de comunicación. Por ejemplo, los programas de televisión en México muestran una gran cantidad de gente rubia. Esto puede ocasionar que alguien wero/a se sienta identificada dentro de la vida nacional y piense que puede llegar a participar en un programa de televisión. En cambio, alguien considerado como prieta podría sentirse excluida al no verse representada en la cultura popular.

La falta de representación en los medios no es el único problema. Muchas veces cuando los medios de comunicación deciden mostrar gente morena o Negra lo hacen a través de estereotipos que dañan la imagen de ciertas comunidades en México. Los estereotipos son problemáticos porque asignan características a todos los miembros de un grupo étnico y racial sin tomar en cuenta situaciones individuales. Se generan expectativas sobre como todos los miembros de un grupo se comportan, o piensan. A través de estas expectativas también se les asignan los roles que dichas poblaciones deben fungir en la sociedad. Un ejemplo de esto puede ser la generalización de que todos los mexicanos son chaparros, pícaros, huevones o rápidos de pies y pensamiento. Sin embargo, los estereotipos no se reparten por igual y afectan más a unas comunidades que a otras. Los principales afectados por este tipo de estereotipos en el país son las personas provenientes de los pueblos originarios o de un pasado Afromexicano.

Este tipo de estereotipos raciales es evidente si examinamos las campañas publicitarias de dos productos muy populares como el Pan Tostado Bimbo y el Negrito Bimbo (ahora Nito). Bimbo tiene presencia en todos los rincones del país. Es una de las compañías más populares y poderosas en México. Sin embargo, la forma en la que ha decidido publicitar algunos de sus productos es muy cuestionable. Por ejemplo, durante los años 90 Bimbo utilizó la imagen de un hombre Afrodescendiente para promocionar su pan tostado. Más que un llamado a la diversidad, la presencia del actor de raza Negra hacía alusión a que a diferencia del pan blanco, este tipo de pan ‘nacía tostado’. El ‘punchline’ del comercial pronunciado por el actor era precisamente ese: ‘Pan Tostado Bimbo: El pan que nace tostado, como yo’. De igual forma, la publicidad asociada con el producto Negrito Bimbo también muestra estereotipos raciales. En un principio los comerciales de este producto mostraban niños en ‘blackface’ asemejando una tribu salvaje. El uso del blackface ha sido sumamente cuestionado por décadas pues asume que la piel negra puede ser utilizada como un disfraz o como una herramienta de comedia. Años después, el nombre del Negrito Bimbo fue sustituido por ‘Nito’. Sin embargo, en lugar de abandonar cualquier alusión hacia personas Negras, la caricatura creada para el Nito muestra una versión actualizada de un joven ‘cool’ portando su cabello al estilo Afro.  La anti-negritud de estos comerciales es evidente. Mientras que el vínculo entre el pan tostado y la piel negra asume que la norma es la blanquitud (pues lo demás se pasó de cocción o se tostó), el Negrito asigna características de salvajez a toda una población.

Estereotipos como los de Bimbo hacia los afrodesceniente en México son comunes pero hay uno que sobresale sobre los demás. Las representaciones sobre este grupo en la cultura popular mexicana están basadas en prejuicios raciales provenientes desde los tiempos de la colonia y la esclavitud. En específico, el estereotipo asignado a los Afromexicanos es aquél conocido en Estados Unidos como el del Sambo. La iconografía de Sambo está relacionada con la un personaje contento y feliz a pesar de su esclavitud. El Sambo, si bien podía ser un adulto, se comportaba como un niño perpetuo, dócil, perezoso y que podría pasar sus días comiendo sandías. Si bien en ocasiones el Sambo podía ser insolente nunca era malintencionado. Su mal comportamiento debía ser corregido por el hombre blanco quién era responsable del convertir al Sambo en una buena persona. Es decir, en la iconografía del Sambo, el protector de las masas y el compás moral de la sociedad es el hombre blanco. Dicho estereotipo es un clásico de las representaciones Afromexicanas y puede encontrarse tanto en las canciones de Cri Crí, como en personajes supuestamente cómicos como Memín Pinguín o el de Tomás, creado por el recién fallecido Héctor Suárez.

Comencemos con las canciones de Francisco Gabilondo Soler, Cri Crí. Cabe aclarar que mi intención aquí no es pronunciarme sobre si Cri Crí era racista o no, más bien intento mostrar como la anti-negritud y el estereotipo del Sambo han sido difundidos en México. Cri Crí cuenta con tres canciones donde se hacen referencias a personas Negras: El Negrito Bailarín, Negrito Sandía y la Negrita Cucurumbé. De estas tres melodías, sólo la última intenta normalizar la negritud pues el principal tema de la canción es que Cucurumbé está equivocada en tratar de blanquear su piel con las olas del mar pues ella es bella tal como es. Sin embargo, la historia con las otras dos canciones es diferente. Por ejemplo, el Negrito Bailarín trata sobre un juguete de hojalata que simula bailar al darle cuerda. La descripción del juguete nos recuerda aquellas imágenes del Minstrel o del Dandy, que se burlaban de la imagen de los cuerpos de Afrodescendientes, sus costumbres y de sus vestimentas. A pesar de tratarse de un juguete, Cri Crí le adjudica las características del Sambo al Negrito Bailarín. La canción recrimina al personaje su mal comportamiento y se le reclama: ¡Ey amigo, lo compré, para verlo bailar a usted, perezoso mueva los pies! En el Negrito Sandía, Cri Crí recurre de nueva cuenta a la imagen del Sambo de forma aún más clara. El Negrito Sandía cuenta la historia de un personaje lépero que tiene que ser corregido constantemente por Cri Crí. Tras la acusación de Cri Crí del uso de un vocabulario florido, e Negrito Sandía este último es reprendido por su tía a golpes con un palo. Lo cual causa risa en Cri Crí:

Con el palo que utiliza

El castigo te horroriza

Y después de la paliza

Me voy a morir de risa

La imagen del Sambo como el niño perpetuo se revela de nueva cuenta en una de las estrofas finales de la canción. Cri Crí afirma que a pesar de ser mayor edad, el Negrito seguirá con su comportamiento inadecuado incluso cuando tenga que presentarse en sociedad o se encuentre en un evento formal:

El día que seas mayor de edad

Si te presentas en sociedad,

Serás grosero y descortés

Cuando discutas con un Marqués.

Asumiendo el rol del compás moral del Negrito Sandía, Cri Crí le advierte que dejé de decir tonterías, groserías y picardía o ‘ya verá’ como le va con el castigo.

La imagen del Sambo, como un personaje mal hablado y bribón también tenía un espacio en televisión nacional en horario estelar a través del personaje de Tomás. Caracterizado por Héctor Suárez al estilo Blackface, el personaje de Tomás, llevaba los estereotipos al extremo. Tomás no sólo era representado como un personaje pobre de un área tropical sino que también emulaba caminar con las manos arriba de su cabeza como un chimpancé. Los sketches de Tomás giraban en torno a chistes que este personaje le contaba a su mamá. La fórmula de los sketches siempre era la misma. Tomás contaba   adivinanzas que eran interpretadas por su mamá como bromas groseras o con connotaciones sexuales. Sin embargo, después de ser regañado injustamente, Tomás aclaraba que la adivinanza no tenía ningún doble sentido y era su mamá la del problema. La frase clásica con la cual Tomás aclaraba la confusión era una negación de su negritud: pues mientras su mamá era la de ‘mente sucia y cochambrosa’: ‘El niño es puro y blanco’. El chiste de estos sketches alude pues a que el comportamiento de Tomás es tan inusual en la idea que se tiene sobre la negritud en México que resulta gracioso.

Como se puede observar, la anti-negritud en el país ha operado a todas luces. Para cambiar esta actitud hace falta un acto crítico de introspección a la cultura y la historia popular mexicana. No sólo habrá que examinar actitudes explícitamente racistas sino también los privilegios que vienen con ideas como la blanquitud o el mestizaje. El punto no es comparar si México es más o menos racista que otros países sino como hacer del país una sociedad más justa y equitativa.

El BOA y las estrategias políticas

Las ocurrencias del Presidente en sus conferencias mañaneras no cesan de sorprendernos. Tal vez una de las más memorables ocurrió esta semana cuando se presentó un documento, de dudosa procedencia, dónde se revelaba la existencia de un Bloque Opositor Amplio (BOA). De acuerdo al Presidente dicho grupo está integrado por intelectuales fifís, prensa crítica y empresarios que no comulgan con las ideas del mandatario y busca competir contra MORENA en las elecciones del año próximo. Si bien ha habido muchos comentarios sobre este tema, algo que no se ha abordado son las razones por la cual el Presidente decidió hacer público este documento. Si bien aquí sólo podemos ofrecer algunas suposiciones, estas se basan en estrategias que han sido utilizadas por AMLO a lo largo de su carrera y que le continúan dando éxitos políticos. Discuto tres de dichas estrategias en particular: la identificación del enemigo, la predicción de resultados políticos y el desvío de la atención a través de los medios de comunicación.

El primer de los métodos utilizado por AMLO es simple y se basa en darle al electorado una visión de la vida política Mexicana en blanco y negro. Esta estrategia quedó al descubierto hace apenas una semana durante su gira por Veracruz. Durante su discurso en la Refinería ‘General Lázaro Cárdenas’, el Presidente mencionó que actualmente en el país ya ‘no es tiempo de simulaciones, o somos conservadores o somos liberales, no hay medias tintas’. Es decir, para el Presidente si no se está a favor de su proyecto político pues se está en contra. Su visión es sólo blanco y negro, no hay espacio para grises. Este modo no es nuevo y AMLO lo ha utilizado por décadas. Por ejemplo, después de las elecciones del 2006 uno puede recordar cómo AMLO dirigió todas sus energías hacia Félipe Calderón. Las críticas eran acompañadas por un sin número de frases (FECAL, espurio, General Borolas) que demarcaban la visión política de AMLO, el presidente legítimo de aquella época, en contra de sus opositores. Este discurso le ha permitido a AMLO situarse en el lado bueno de una narrativa creada por él mismo. Sin embargo, al no estar más Felipe Calderón en el país, el discurso comienza a agotarse, especialmente porque no hay un líder claro de oposición con el que el Presidente pueda compararse a diario y autocalificarse como el bueno de la historia. El discurso de blanco y negro, pues, comienza a mostrar un sinfín de grises en el pasado blanco de AMLO y su partido. A falta de una oposición que sirva como contrapunto, pues qué mejor que la llegada del BOA.

El Segundo elemento en el arsenal político de AMLO es la predicción de resultados ante disputas políticas. Durante las elecciones presidenciales anteriores a su ascenso a la presidencia, AMLO ya profetizaba que el INE era corrupto, claro está, sólo en caso de que llegara a perder. Al ganar las elecciones, la corrupción del INE pasó a segundo término. Es decir, mientras los resultados sean a favor del Presidente, las instituciones independientes son importantes y validan la democracia, si no,  no. Esta técnica ya fue anunciada de nueva cuenta. A través de la difusión del BOA, AMLO ya profetizó que si MORENA llega a perder las gubernaturas que se vienen, esto será por el BOA y no por el desempeño de su gobierno. Esta estrategia busca dejar al presidente en una posición en la que sin importar el resultado él siempre saldrá ganando. Es decir, si a Morena le va bien en las elecciones será porque AMLO ha hecho una gran labor y porque el pueblo está feliz (feliz, feliz) con su gobierno. Si los resultados de las elecciones son en contra de la cuatro T será porque los conservadores se han unido para vencerlo a él y al pueblo bueno (a pesar de que esto sea derecho). Es decir, sin importan su accionar en el gobierno, AMLO ya tiene respuesta para cualquier escenario.

La última técnica política recurrente de AMLO tiene que ver con la desinformación. Esta es una estrategia que ha sido comentada por varios politólogos dentro y fuera de México. Es generalmente asociada con Steve Bannon, el asesor de campaña de Donald Trump. Este método busca llenar de noticias rimbombantes a los medios de comunicación para desviar la atención de críticas hacia el gobierno. Todas las conferencias mañaneras son parte de esta estrategia que busca controlar la narrativa política de México. Es decir, los temas políticos a discutirse en México los dicta el presidente a diario. Esto no se debe a que el gobierno compré a escritores o reporteros (que bien podría hacerlo), sino porque en cualquier momento que haya algún tipo de presión en su gobierno, AMLO ofrece algún espectáculo político. Por ejemplo, en lugar de hablar de la violencia en el país, de que el tren Maya es un crimen ecológico o de la corrupción aún existente del país, AMLO nos tiene hablando y escribiendo sobre el BOA. En lugar de reforzar las críticas a problemas serios y prioritarios, los líderes de opinión meditan sobre un supuesto complot político para ganarle las elecciones a MORENA y al presidente. Una estrategia tan simple pero tan efectiva que sigue redituando. Tan fácil como quitarle un dulce a un niño.

A non-Regio guide for ‘I am no longer here’.

 

A few days ago I watched the film Ya No Estoy Aqui (I am no longer here) directed by Fernando Frías. The film tells the story of a young man, Ulises, in Monterrey that has to escape to New York due to a misunderstanding with drug dealers. While the story is brilliantly told, there are many things that if you are not a Regio, a Monterrey native, you won’t understand. The next few lines explain some of what was left unsaid in the movie. At times these absences add to the story but, at others, they just exploit the voyeurism of ‘Kolombian’ culture and the people associated with it. This voyeurism is a staple of Mexican directors, often whiter than average, that love to fetishized lower-class Brown, Indigenous or Black Mexican people.

This fetishization of non-white people has a long history in Mexican cinema. During the ‘Golden Era’ of film in Mexico, for instance, we can look at ‘Angelitos Negros’ (1948), the story of a white racist woman that is unaware that she is actually the daughter of a Black maid. A few year later, Luis Bunuel filmed ‘Los Olvidados’, a story of the never ending violence of the lower-class around Mexico City. In more recent times, this type of stories are still coming and can be found in movies such as ‘Perfume de Violetas’, ‘El Infierno’ or even the academy award winning ‘Roma’. All of these movies have very different plots and elements. However, what all of them have in common is that is mainly white Mexicans letting us know the reason why non-white Mexicans are human too. It’s white-Mexicans the ones that control the narrative and the values that give humanity to coloured bodies. Fernando Frías claims that he is doing something different but by over relying on the Kolombian attire as the main entry point for his story, the film ends up reproducing a lot of the stereotypes that were supposed to be avoided. So instead of understanding why Ulises loves Kolombian culture, the final result portrays a light version of the US imagination of everything Mexican: lives run by destitution, narco and immigration problems.

The reasons behind this could be plenty. Perhaps, the director wanted to reach an international audience, or maybe he ran out of time or money to tell a deeper story. Possibly, and I think this is might be the actual reason, the superficial feeling of the story is due to the fact that Fernando Frías is from Mexico City and not from Monterrey (Yes, people, Mexico has very different cultures within it). Don’t get me wrong, I give quite a lot of credit to Frías for the work he produced. The location, the dialogues, the accents, the attire and the music in the film are spot on (I also believe that the actors were given a lot of freedom to tell the story in their way). Yet, the marginality in which Frías presents Kolombian culture is deceiving. Musica Kolombiana, and everything associated with it, has a long history of over half a century and it’s very much part of Monterrey.

Let’s start with the location where Ya No Estoy Aqui was filmed, la Colonia Independencia. ‘La Indepe’, as Regios usually called it, it’s an unavoidable landmark of Monterrey. La Indepe is located on the Cerro de La Campana (or La Campana Hill) and it’s a short distance away from downtown. Being located on a hill right in the middle of town, the presence of La Indepe is always felt by Regios. No matter what direction you are going to, at one point or another, you will see the bright colors of La Indepe houses resting on the horizon. While La Indepe was initially an informal settlement established in the early 19th century, today is a vital area of Monterrey. Every Regio has been there at some point in their life. La Indepe has a booming economy of small businesses and stores. Similarly, this barrio holds the main religious site of the city, La Basílica de Guadalupe, which every 12th of December sees people all over Nuevo Leon (rich, poor and the in-between) pay a visit to the ‘Virgen Morena’. Thus, La Indepe is not really a marginal area of Monterrey, while it struggles economically like rest of the city, it’s a welcoming area that it’s used to strangers coming and going. La Indepe depends on this flow of people, just like the visitors across the State depend on La Indepe.

The second aspect that needs to be discussed is Kolombian music. Again, if you are not from Monterrey you may think that this is a strange type music that very few people enjoy, but this is hardly the case. Kolombian music arrived to Monterrey in the 60’s as migrants used the city as a resting place on their way to the US. Just like in any passing point across the World, migrant leave part of their culture behind. In this case it was Colombian music, namely Bachata and Vallenato. This genre is referred to in Monterrey as Cumbia Colombiana to differentiate it from the local version of Cumbia, a more tex-mex style of sound. Both styles of music are dominated by the accordion but Cumbia Colombiana incorporates Afro-Latino and Afro-Caribbean elements, sounds and rhythms. Colombiana music spread from La Indepe to the rest of the city initially via ‘the sonideros’, mobile sound systems on hire that served as the main attraction of popular dances or block parties. The owners of the sonideros would get their music either from merchants from Houston, TX or from Mexico City. When Regios themselves began to produce and create their own version of the music they heard in the sonideros, the term Kolombia was forged (or at least the idea of it) to distinguish what was made in Mexico from what it wasn’t.

At the time I was growing up, during the 90s, Kolombian music was a well-established genre in the city. Several radio stations, as XEH 1420 AM and Banda 93.3 FM, would cater to the Kolombiano audience across the different lower class barrios. Radio DJs such as Cepyboy and Don Rulo, whose voices are featured in the movie, hosted two of the most popular shows in the city that popularized the Kolombiano culture by playing its music, using the common lingo (think of Cepyboy’s ‘Chikita Mamá’ or Don Rulo’s ‘sobres, sobres’) and providing airtime for the community that used radio shout-outs (saludos) to map itself within the urban area.

These shout-outs were an art on their own. As all airtime is precious, the time given to shout-outs was limited. DJs had to fit music, commercials and their actual show before the calls. But once a caller was given an opportunity to send a ‘saludo’ (shout-out) the game was on. Callers would try to fit as many names of clickas, homies, friends and relatives as possible. People would practice before even calling and within clickas, the person whose delivery was the fastest was the chosen one to call. In Ya No Estoy Aqui, this is not explained. People would listen to the radio just waiting for a shout-out, to see if someone remembered you. If your name or your local clicka was mentioned, you would get excited as it was a bid deal. This happened to me even as I watched the movie, when Los Payasos, one of the local clickas of my barrio (Col. López Mateos) is mentioned in one of the calls featured in the film. It’s one of this shout-outs that Ulises is trying to make when he is calling the Radio station from New York. It was a way to reminding his friends that he was still with them, even if his body was thousands of kilometres away.

Radio stations had another function too. They were one of the main organisers of music festivals in the city. During the 90s and early 2000s, Monterrey saw a growth of the music industry. Several bands came out from the city and reached a national and international audience. While most of these bands played rock or hip hop, the city saw the opening of several music spots across its area. This included Kolombiana music. Clubs like La Republika or La Fe music Hall, were big spots for Kolombiano culture. Once again, these clubs were not hidden but they were right next to other popular spots in town like Koko Loko or the popular zone known as Barrio Antiguo. In other words, Kolombianos were never out of sight. Furthermore, they became quite visible in the early 2000s as the local Kolombian music hero, from La Indepe himself, Celso Pina dropped an album with some of the most popular music groups in the country. Playing with groups like Café Tacuba, Control Machete and El Gran Silencio, among many others, Celso’s music videos made Regio Kolombiano culture reach places across Latin America, particularly through MTV Latino. The chuntaro dance style, the cumbia rebajada, the long ‘side brows’ and los ‘tramos tumbados’ were now visible for the nation and for the continent.

The final element that needs to be discussed is violence. The period where the movie takes places is somewhere between 2006 to 2010. This years saw the President Felipe Calderón declare a war against drug dealers that would flood the streets of the country with blood. At a local level, Monterrey was hosting a big international cultural festival in 2007 (Forum de las Culturas). This festival brought artists, intellectuals and tourist from across the World to the city. Thus, the local governor (2003-2009) Natividad Gonzalez Paras had begun his own clean up project across town. These events saw the harassment of young people across the city. Kolombianos were a special target for the police as they claimed that the youths looked ‘suspicious’. Fed up of such mistreatment, communities reacted against the police. This discontent was seized by narcos that were expanding their territory to Monterrey, a plaza that had been pretty calm up to that point. Once the war against narcos was at full swing, the city lived a few years of chaos where people coming from popular areas would take over the streets for a few hours at a time. Known as ‘narco-bloqueos’ (blockades), youths would seized cars, trucks and buses to impede cops and the military to catch up local narco bosses. These events changed Monterrey. This is one of the final realizations that Ulises senses in the story, everything had changed for good. What he was, what he used to be, was no longer there.