When, in 1910, like several of its sister republics, Mexico celebrated
the centennial anniversary of its independence, the era of peace
and progress inaugurated by Porfirio Diaz seemed likely to last
indefinitely, for he was entering upon his eighth term as President.
Brilliant as his career had been, however, and greatly as Mexico had
prospered under his rigid rule, a sullen discontent had been brewing.
The country that had had but one continuous President in twenty-six
years was destined to have some fourteen chief magistrates in less than
a quarter of that time, and to surpass all its previous records for
rapidity in presidential succession, by having one executive who is said
to have held office for precisely fifty-six minutes!
It has often been asserted that the reason for the downfall of Diaz
and the lapse of Mexico into the unhappy conditions of a half century
earlier was that he had grown too old to keep a firm grip on the
situation. It has also been declared that his insistence upon reelection
and upon the elevation of his own personal candidate to the vice
presidency, as a successor in case of his retirement, occasioned his
overthrow. The truth of the matter is that these circumstances were only
incidental to his downfall; the real causes of revolution lay deeprooted
in the history of these twenty-six years. The most significant feature
of the revolt was its civilian character. A widespread public opinion
had been created; a national consciousness had been awakened which was
intolerant of abuses and determined upon their removal at any cost; and
this public opinion and national consciousness were products of general
education, which had brought to the fore a number of intelligent men
eager to participate in public affairs and yet barred out because of
their unwillingness to support the existing regime.
Some one has remarked, and rightly, that Diaz in his zeal for the
material advancement of Mexico, mistook the tangible wealth of the
country for its welfare. Desirable and even necessary as that material
progress was, it produced only a one-sided prosperity. Diaz was
singularly deaf to the just complaints of the people of the laboring
classes, who, as manufacturing and other industrial enterprises
developed, were resolved to better their conditions. In the country at
large the discontent was still stronger. Throughout many of the rural
districts general advancement had been retarded because of the holding
of huge areas of fertile land by a comparatively few rich families, who
did little to improve it and were content with small returns from the
labor of throngs of unskilled native cultivators. Wretchedly paid and
housed, and toiling long hours, the workers lived like the serfs of
medieval days or as their own ancestors did in colonial times. Ignorant,
poverty-stricken, liable at any moment to be dispossessed of the tiny
patch of ground on which they raised a few hills of corn or beans, most
of them were naturally a simple, peaceful folk who, in spite of their
misfortunes, might have gone on indefinitely with their drudgery in
a hopeless apathetic fashion, unless their latent savage instincts
happened to be aroused by drink and the prospect of plunder. On the
other hand, the intelligent among them, knowing that in some of the
northern States of the republic wages were higher and treatment fairer,
felt a sense of wrong which, like that of the laboring class in the
towns, was all the more dangerous because it was not allowed to find
expression.
Diaz thought that what Mexico required above everything else was the
development of industrial efficiency and financial strength, assured
by a maintenance of absolute order. Though disposed to do justice in
individual cases, he would tolerate no class movements of any kind.
Labor unions, strikes, and other efforts at lightening the burden of the
workers he regarded as seditious and deserving of severe punishment. In
order to attract capital from abroad as the best means of exploiting the
vast resources of the country, he was willing to go to any length, it
would seem, in guaranteeing protection. Small wonder, therefore, that
the people who shared in none of the immediate advantages from that
source should have muttered that Mexico was the "mother of foreigners
and the stepmother of Mexicans." And, since so much of the capital came
from the United States, the antiforeign sentiment singled Americans out
for its particular dislike.
If Diaz appeared unable to appreciate the significance of the
educational and industrial awakening, he was no less oblivious of the
political outcome. He knew, of course, that the Mexican constitution
made impossible demands upon the political capacity of the people. He
was himself mainly of Indian blood and he believed that he understood
the temperament and limitations of most Mexicans. Knowing how
tenaciously they clung to political notions, he believed that it was
safer and wiser to forego, at least for a time, real popular government
and to concentrate power in the hands of a strong man who could maintain
order.
Accordingly, backed by his political adherents, known as cientificos
(doctrinaires), some of whom had acquired a sinister ascendancy over
him, and also by the Church, the landed proprietors, and the foreign
capitalists, Diaz centered the entire administration more and more in
himself. Elections became mere farces. Not only the federal officials
themselves but the state governors, the members of the state
legislatures, and all others in authority during the later years of his
rule owed their selection primarily to him and held their positions only
if personally loyal to him. Confident of his support and certain that
protests against misgovernment would be regarded by the President as
seditious, many of them abused their power at will. Notable among them
were the local officials, called jefes politicos, whose control of the
police force enabled them to indulge in practices of intimidation and
extortion which ultimately became unendurable.
Though symptoms of popular wrath against the Diaz regime, or diazpotism
as the Mexicans termed it, were apparent as early as 1908, it was not
until January, 1911, that the actual revolution came. It was headed by
Francisco I. Madero, a member of a wealthy and distinguished family
of landed proprietors in one of the northern States. What the
revolutionists demanded in substance was the retirement of the
President, Vice President, and Cabinet; a return to the principle of no
reelection to the chief magistracy; a guarantee of fair elections at
all times; the choice of capable, honest, and impartial judges, jefes
politicos, and other officials; and, in particular, a series of agrarian
and industrial reforms which would break up the great estates, create
peasant proprietorships, and better the conditions of the working
classes. Disposed at first to treat the insurrection lightly, Diaz soon
found that he had underestimated its strength. Grants of some of the
demands and promises of reform were met with a dogged insistence upon
his own resignation. Then, as the rebellion spread to the southward, the
masterful old man realized that his thirty-one years of rule were at an
end. On the 25th of May, therefore, he gave up his power and sailed for
Europe.
Madero was chosen President five months later, but the revolution soon
passed beyond his control. He was a sincere idealist, if not something
of a visionary, actuated by humane and kindly sentiments, but he lacked
resoluteness and the art of managing men. He was too prolific, also, of
promises which he must have known he could not keep. Yielding to family
influence, he let his followers get out of hand. Ambitious chieftains
and groups of Radicals blocked and thwarted him at every turn. When
he could find no means of carrying out his program without wholesale
confiscation and the disruption of business interests, he was accused of
abandoning his duty. One officer after another deserted him and turned
rebel. Brigandage and insurrection swept over the country and threatened
to involve it in ugly complications with the United States and European
powers. At length, in February, 1913, came the blow that put an end to
all of Madero's efforts and aspirations. A military uprising in the
city of Mexico made him prisoner, forced him to resign, and set up a
provisional government under the dictatorship of Victoriano Huerta,
one of his chief lieutenants. Two weeks later both Madero and the Vice
President were assassinated while on their way supposedly to a place of
safety.
Huerta was a rough soldier of Indian origin, possessed of unusual force
of character and strength of will, ruthless, cunning, and in bearing
alternately dignified and vulgar. A scientifico in political faith, he
was disposed to restore the Diaz regime, so far as an application of
shrewdness and force could make it possible. But from the outset he
found an obstacle confronting him that he could not surmount. Though
acknowledged by European countries and by many of the Hispanic
republics, he could not win recognition from the United States, either
as provisional President or as a candidate for regular election to the
office. Whether personally responsible for the murder of Madero or
not, he was not regarded by the American Government as entitled to
recognition, on the ground that he was not the choice of the Mexican
people. In its refusal to recognize an administration set up merely by
brute force, the United States was upheld by Argentina, Brazil, Chile,
and Cuba. The elimination of Huerta became the chief feature for a while
of its Mexican policy.
Meanwhile the followers of Madero and the pronounced Radicals had found
a new northern leader in the person of Venustiano Carranza. They
called themselves Constitutionalists, as indicative of their purpose to
reestablish the constitution and to choose a successor to Madero in
a constitutional manner. What they really desired was those radical
changes along social, industrial, and political lines, which Madero had
championed in theory. They sought to introduce a species of socialistic
regime that would provide the Mexicans with an opportunity for
self-regeneration. While Diaz had believed in economic progress
supported by the great landed proprietors, the moral influence of the
Church, and the application of foreign capital, the Constitutionalists,
personified in Carranza, were convinced that these agencies, if left
free and undisturbed to work their will, would ruin Mexico. Though not
exactly antiforeign in their attitude, they wished to curb the power
of the foreigner; they would accept his aid whenever desirable for the
economic development of the country, but they would not submit to his
virtual control of public affairs. In any case they would tolerate no
interference by the United States. Compromise with the Huerta regime,
therefore, was impossible. Huerta, the "strong man" of the Diaz type,
must go. On this point, at least, the Constitutionalists were in
thorough agreement with the United States.
A variety of international complications ensued. Both Huertistas and
Carranzistas perpetrated outrages on foreigners, which evoked sharp
protests and threats from the United States and European powers.
While careful not to recognize his opponents officially, the American
Government resorted to all kinds of means to oust the dictator. An
embargo was laid on the export of arms and munitions; all efforts to
procure financial help from abroad were balked. The power of Huerta was
waning perceptibly and that of the Constitutionalists was increasing
when an incident that occurred in April, 1914, at Tampico brought
matters to a climax. A number of American sailors who had gone ashore
to obtain supplies were arrested and temporarily detained. The United
States demanded that the American flag be saluted as reparation for the
insult. Upon the refusal of Huerta to comply, the United States sent a
naval expedition to occupy Vera Cruz.
Both Carranza and Huerta regarded this move as equivalent to an act of
war. Argentina, Brazil, and Chile then offered their mediation. But
the conference arranged for this purpose at Niagara Falls, Canada,
had before it a task altogether impossible of accomplishment. Though
Carranza was willing to have the Constitutionalists represented, if
the discussion related solely to the immediate issue between the United
States and Huerta, he declined to extend the scope of the conference so
as to admit the right of the United States to interfere in the internal
affairs of Mexico. The conference accomplished nothing so far as the
immediate issue was concerned. The dictator did not make reparation for
the "affronts and indignities" he had committed; but his day was over.
The advance of the Constitutionalists southward compelled him in July
to abandon the capital and leave the country. Four months later the
American forces were withdrawn from Vera Cruz. The "A B C" Conference,
however barren it was of direct results, helped to allay suspicions of
the United States in Hispanic America and brought appreciably nearer a
"concert of the western world."
While far from exercising full control throughout Mexico, the "first
chief" of the Constitutionalists was easily the dominant figure in
the situation. At home a ranchman, in public affairs a statesman of
considerable ability, knowing how to insist and yet how to temporize,
Carranza carried on a struggle, both in arms and in diplomacy, which
singled him out as a remarkable character. Shrewdly aware of the
advantageous circumstances afforded him by the war in Europe, he turned
them to account with a degree of skill that blocked every attempt at
defeat or compromise. No matter how serious the opposition to him in
Mexico itself, how menacing the attitude of the United States, or how
persuasive the conciliatory disposition of Hispanic American nations, he
clung stubbornly and tenaciously to his program.
Even after Huerta had been eliminated, Carranza's position was not
assured, for Francisco, or "Pancho," Villa, a chieftain whose personal
qualities resembled those of the fallen dictator, was equally determined
to eliminate him. For a brief moment, indeed, peace reigned. Under
an alleged agreement between them, a convention of Constitutionalist
officers was to choose a provisional President, who should be ineligible
as a candidate for the permanent presidency at the regular elections.
When Carranza assumed both of these positions, Villa declared his act
a violation of their understanding and insisted upon his retirement.
Inasmuch as the convention was dominated by Villa, the "first chief"
decided to ignore its election of a provisional President.
The struggle between the Conventionalists headed by Villa and the
Constitutionalists under Carranza plunged Mexico into worse discord and
misery than ever. Indeed it became a sort of three-cornered contest. The
third party was Emiliano Zapata, an Indian bandit, nominally a supporter
of Villa but actually favorable to neither of the rivals. Operating near
the capital, he plundered Conventionalists and Constitutionalists with
equal impartiality, and as a diversion occasionally occupied the city
itself. These circumstances gave force to the saying that Mexico was a
"land where peace breaks out once in a while!"
Early in 1915 Carranza proceeded to issue a number of radical decrees
that exasperated foreigners almost beyond endurance. Rather than resort
to extreme measures again, however, the United States invoked the
cooperation of the Hispanic republics and proposed a conference to
devise some solution of the Mexican problem. To give the proposed
conference a wider representation, it invited not only the "A B C"
powers, but Bolivia, Uruguay, and Guatemala to participate. Meeting
at Washington in August, the mediators encountered the same difficulty
which had confronted their predecessors at Niagara Falls. Though the
other chieftains assented, Carranza, now certain of success, declined to
heed any proposal of conciliation. Characterizing efforts of the kind as
an unwarranted interference in the internal affairs of a sister nation,
he warned the Hispanic republics against setting up so dangerous a
precedent. In reply Argentina stated that the conference obeyed a "lofty
inspiration of Pan-American solidarity, and, instead of finding any
cause for alarm, the Mexican people should see in it a proof of their
friendly consideration that her fate evokes in us, and calls forth our
good wishes for her pacification and development." However, as the only
apparent escape from more watchful waiting or from armed intervention on
the part of the United States, in October the seven Governments decided
to accept the facts as they stood, and accordingly recognized Carranza
as the de facto ruler of Mexico.
Enraged at this favor shown to his rival, Villa determined deliberately
to provoke American intervention by a murderous raid on a town in New
Mexico in March, 1916. When the United States dispatched an expedition
to avenge the outrage, Carranza protested energetically against its
violation of Mexican territory and demanded its withdrawal. Several
clashes, in fact, occurred between American soldiers and Carranzistas.
Neither the expedition itself, however, nor diplomatic efforts to find
some method of cooperation which would prevent constant trouble along
the frontier served any useful purpose, since Villa apparently could
not be captured and Carranza refused to yield to diplomatic persuasion.
Carranza then proposed that a joint commission be appointed to settle
these vexed questions. Even this device proved wholly unsatisfactory.
The Mexicans would not concede the right of the United States to send
an armed expedition into their country at any time, and the Americans
refused to accept limitations on the kind of troops that they might
employ or on the zone of their operations. In January, 1917, the joint
commission was dissolved and the American soldiers were withdrawn. Again
the "first chief" had won!
On the 5th of February a convention assembled at Queretaro promulgated
a constitution embodying substantially all of the radical program
that Carranza had anticipated in his decrees. Besides providing for an
elaborate improvement in the condition of the laboring classes and
for such a division of great estates as might satisfy their particular
needs, the new constitution imposed drastic restrictions upon foreigners
and religious bodies. Under its terms, foreigners could not acquire
industrial concessions unless they waived their treaty rights and
consented to regard themselves for the purpose as Mexican citizens.
In all such cases preference was to be shown Mexicans over foreigners.
Ecclesiastical corporations were forbidden to own real property. No
primary school and no charitable institution could be conducted by
any religious mission or denomination, and religious publications must
refrain from commenting on public affairs. The presidential term was
reduced from six years to four; reelection was prohibited; and the
office of Vice President was abolished.
When, on the 1st of May, Venustiano Carranza was chosen President,
Mexico had its first constitutional executive in four years. After
a cruel and obstinately intolerant struggle that had occasioned
indescribable suffering from disease and starvation, as well as the
usual slaughter and destruction incident to war, the country began to
enjoy once more a measure of peace. Financial exhaustion, however, had
to be overcome before recuperation was possible. Industrial progress had
become almost paralyzed; vast quantities of depreciated paper money had
to be withdrawn from circulation; and an enormous array of claims for
the loss of foreign life and property had rolled up.