As I reflect on my troubled country, the lyrics of a Bruce Springsteen song come to mind: “We are far, far away from home. Our home is far, far away from us.” That’s how it feels to live in Mexico nowadays: far from democratic normalcy; far from a health system that inspires confidence; far from a government that builds trust; far from home and close to everything that imperils it.
My homeland has become a place where too many people are victims, succumbing to a virus, or gunned down by a drug-trafficker; assaulted by a robber, shot by an ill-trained policeman, or kidnapped by a member of a criminal gang. The flu epidemic, which probably began in the southern state of Veracruz, is yet another sign that all is not well in Mexico.
The country seems to be caught in a tug-of-war between the past and the future, between change and the actors who seek to place obstacles in its path. For example, when initial reports surfaced about the first swine flu cases, it took three weeks for the information to reach federal health authorities, because state governments were reluctant to report cases quickly because of political and electoral considerations.
The country faces mid-term elections for Congress in the fall and Mexican President Felipe Calderon’s National Action Party is trailing slightly in the polls over its main rivals, who would like nothing better than to see a health emergency translate into a political defeat. In the face of a public health system that seemed incapable of diagnosing and treating the outbreak quickly, the government felt it had little choice but to shut down Mexico City, dealing a severe blow to an already crippled economy.
In contrast with Mexico’s authoritarian past, when an “imperial presidency” constituted a major obstacle to modernization, power has been dispersed. What the executive branch has relinquished, or been forced to give up, vested interests have seized.
The problem is no longer too much power in the president’s hands, but too much power in the hands of “veto centers” — including public-sector unions — that are blocking reforms, including in the health system. In all likelihood, those reported dead from swine flu reflect a social safety net falling to pieces because of a lack of public investment and union recalcitrance.
The flu revealed other key problems. The political system has become a peculiar hybrid of authoritarian remnants and newly established mechanisms for transparency. The electoral process has been unable to guarantee decent democratic governance, rein in predatory practices among the political class, or make public officials follow established rules, keep them responsive to citizen preferences and deter them from channeling public funds into private hands.
Lack of accountability has both encouraged corruption and fed perceptions that abuse remains unpunished. Impunity, in turn, erodes the credibility of the country’s institutions, including public hospitals and clinics. Today, conspiracy theories abound in Mexico about the origins of the virus, because government officials are viewed with ingrained suspicion.
Throughout the epidemic, citizens have largely obeyed government guidelines and followed public health prescriptions. But that doesn’t mean they trust the government. Public-opinion polls reveal that more than 50 percent of the population believes that political parties are “not necessary” for the good of the country. Disapproval of Congress is growing and the public’s satisfaction with representative democracy has decreased.
In the midst of the epidemic, 66 percent of Mexicans believe the country is regressing. Seventy-five percent of crimes are not reported because of mistrust toward authorities and 98 percent of crimes are never resolved or punished. Public opinion seems disenchanted with a democracy incapable of offering tangible solutions to problems, the flu crisis being the most recent example.
Saddled by a viral infection, drug-related insecurity and rising crime, Mexico feels like a besieged place. The noted columnist Miguel Angel Granados Chapa wrote last week: “All that’s missing is for Mexico to get peed on by a dog.”
Mexico’s bad health is a symptom of problems that run deeper and are more widespread than swine flu. Over the past ten years, political and economic actors intent on preserving the status quo have blocked further democratic change and economic reform, condemning Mexico to move sideways, even as other emerging markets surge ahead.
Lately, political battles among key actors have not been about how to build a more effective representative political system or a more equitable, dynamic economy, but about how to maintain control of accumulated power or distribute it among allies. Political parties appear far removed from citizen demands, beset by internal divisions, incapable of addressing deep-rooted inequality and lawlessness, and prone to populist or authoritarian leadership that promises quick fixes to entrenched problems.
Mexico’s current quandary is the flu, but it faces more important challenges than a mutating microbe. With more than 40 million people living in poverty and 7,000 killed in drug-related violence last year, Mexico will need to reform quickly to address what the virus has brought to light: a government far removed from the suffering of ordinary people and too frequently insensitive to their plight.
In this national crisis, Mexico’s people have closed ranks, collaborated and shown that they are capable of working together to achieve common goals in the public interest. But their political and economic elites frequently seem incapable of doing so. That is why home seems far, far away.
Denise Dresser is a professor of political science at the Technological Institute of Mexico and a columnist for the newspaper Reforma.
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